


It's a Rescue Mission, Not a Revenge Mission

by Andrettianna



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It was supposed to be a simple rescue mission, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, nothing goes according to plan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-05-28 14:49:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19396366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andrettianna/pseuds/Andrettianna
Summary: It occurred to me that Marcone was about to pull me into some serious shit. My life would probably be threatened at some point. Physical injury and mental anguish seemed like a given. But, if I could get a favor out of it from the Baron of Chicago… I let my mind hypothesize all the ways I could utilize a get-out-of-jail-free card from Marcone. Hell’s Bells, that was probably why Lea told me he was looking for me. To have the Baron of Chicago owe a favor to the Winter Knight. That would certainly make Mab happy. But, a happy Mab was not necessarily in Harry Dresden’s best interests. I would have to be careful in my wording of whatever he wanted from me. I wanted him in my debt, sure, just not necessarily in Winter’s.





	1. An Offer You Can't Refuse

**Author's Note:**

> A Dresden Files alternate universe, 2-3 years post Peace Talks. Dresden is struggling with his humanity under the pressure of the Winter Knight’s mantle, even though the upheaval of the events from Changes have softened around the edges. He has a new house (Thanks Michael), a new car, a steady cash flow, and the respect of his peers on the White Council and within the Winter Court. He’s proven himself a valuable asset to both Signatories. This Dresden is a little older, and a little wiser, but still the same laugh-in-the-face-of-danger smartass. When Marcone comes knocking asking him for help, it’s a better deal than he can pass up. Even knowing, nothing ever goes according to plan. 
> 
> ps- I have no idea how to title things.  
> pps- I welcome constructive criticism and recommendations, but funfact about me- I got cut to shreds in my college writing classes about a decade ago and this is the first time I've felt inspired to write again. so, just go easy on me.

Michael had done an excellent job on the house. He had architects and subcontractors and designers, you name it. It was a process that took most of 24 months to complete. Everything had been made exactly to the designs they had helped me come up with. I got a huge lab in the basement and plenty of room for Maggie and Mouse when she was home from school. I had an actual study now, with gleaming hardwood bookshelves lining the room and floor to ceiling windows that bathed the room in sunlight in the mornings. I even had hot-ish water. Michael had designed an off-grid system that utilized a combination of heat pump, solar panels and a wind turbine out behind the house. I hadn’t been convinced it would hold up so I had inlaid a circle around the whole mess out in the garage, you know, for safety reasons. It had been about 8 months and so far it was still spitting out hot-ish water when I ran the tap. The radiators didn’t do much to keep out the chill, but there were fireplaces in almost every room. For a wizard, it was nearly more than I could ask for. It was perfect. I hated it. It just never felt like home. It was just a too big, too empty house.

I had tried to settle in, but it just never felt right. No matter what I did I couldn’t make it feel like a home. I had used a few stones from the cottage on Demonreach as the cornerstones for the new house. My idea had been to kick start my threshold with the magic from that ancient monolith, or at least have somewhere to anchor my wards. It had worked spectacularly. Eb had commented that even the Merlin would be hard pressed to get past my wards, and wards were kind of his _thing_. So then it was a too big, too empty fortress.

It got to the point that I didn’t really like spending time there. I started exploring the Ways. I would pack a bag, step across into the nevernever and feel, freer. More at ease. It was probably a red flag that I was feeling more at home in Faerie than in the mortal world. To be fair, Lea had warned me that taking my mother’s knowledge of the Ways would change me. But it still came as a bit of a shock that I was developing more ties to the fae than to humanity. I should have been disturbed by it. It was probably another big red flag that I honestly didn’t care. I was spending more time with Lea than was wise. She would find me wandering a path through some distant part of the nevernever and we would walk together, just to see what there was to see. Sometimes she would tell me stories about my mother. Margaret LeFey was unnervingly similar to me, not the least of which was her propensity to never keep her mouth shut. I was more than a little smug to find out that it was a genetic trait.

We were camped for the night on the edge of Winter. I had built a small campfire that was more for aesthetic value than warmth, neither of us needed it. We had a comfortable silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I was more than a little caught off guard when she tilted her head as though listening to something in the distance and then said, “Your Mafioso is looking for you.”

“What? My- What?” I sputtered. “Stars, Lea, I don’t have a- wait, like _here_ , right _now_?” I craned my neck looking out into the falling darkness. I hadn’t heard or felt anything.

Lea grinned her ‘I-Know-Something-You-Don’t-Know’ smile. It came across as both patronizing and chiding. “No, godson, he seeks you back in your Chicagoland. You should return. This will be important to you.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. I hate when she played secrets with me. “What do you mean? And how do you know anyway?” But she just shook her head and wouldn’t answer me. She stood up and kicked dirt over the small fire, extinguishing it.

“The faster, the better, child. Time waits for no man and the wheel of fate is already in motion.” She kissed my forehead as I stood too, collecting my staff and backpack from where I had leaned it up against a tree.

“Lea, first of all, that’s ominous as fuck. What is going on?” I snipped again. She just shook her head again and walked off into the night.

“Well, Hell’s Bells!” I called after her.

It didn’t take long to get back to Chicago. I stepped back into the mortal world at the closest Way I could get to. It led into the parking lot of a car rental place off Clark, in the loop. It was mid-morning back here and the energy of the city felt like being blindsided. Being in the nevernever I was used to letting my arcane senses drift further than I would in the mortal world. The city grated on me and left me with a feeling similar to getting sand in your eye on a windy day. It took a minute to pull back my magic enough to get my bearings. I hoisted by bag back up on my shoulder and took off in search of a phone. Turned out I wasn’t too far from the Clark/Lake stop for the L and there’s still pay phones at all the stops in the Loop. I dropped my quarters in and dialed up my sometimes-enemy, sometimes-ally, Gentleman Johnny Marcone. Yeah, I have his private number, don’t ask.

Three rings and- “Speak.”

“Heya, Johnny. A little birdie told me you were looking for me. Care to comment?”

“Ah, Mr.Dresden. Very good. Where are you?” I squinted at the phone. Bossy, sure. But also almost two whole civil sentences.

“Where are _you_?” I countered, immediately suspicious. I imagined him doing his stupid eye tick that he always does when I say something that pisses him off.

“I’m currently sitting in your driveway.”

“Well I’m not home. Stalker.”

“Yes, that seemed obvious when no one answered your door. _Where_ are you?” Ohh, there was that snark I know and loathe, I thought. I was preparing my next zinger when he continued, with a softer, “I need to speak with you. It’s urgent.” And that small admittance of nearly-weakness had me baffled. John Marcone was criminal scum, but he was top of the trash pile scum. Unwavering, never back down, never show a flicker of weakness. I saw that man face down _Denarians_ and not flinch. So to think that now, after all this time there was something that had finally rattled the bars on the tiger’s cage… well you could say I was apprehensive. And Lea had seemed to think it was important.

“Ok,” I said, matching his tone. “Alright. We can talk. I’m, uh, somewhere downtown I guess. Off Clark. But just stay where you are. I can get to you faster than you can get to me.”

“Bypassing Chicago traffic by magical means, I assume. I appreciate your expediency,” he replied. 

“Heh. Yeah, I’m sure you do. Sit tight. And don’t let Gard fuck with my wards.”

“Yes, she’s already informed me that that would be inadvisable. With all due haste, please, Mr. Dresden.” And he hung up on me.

Three more quick ins-and-outs through the mortal world and the nevernever and I was walking through my back yard less than 10 minutes after I had hung up with Marcone. I let myself in through the back patio door. The new wards were intuitive, disarming as soon as my magic came within range of the house. I would actually have to consciously re-arm them while I was on the property. The idea had been that there were plenty of times I had been unconscious or nearly so when a friend or ally had drug me back home and the struggle of getting me coherent enough to cast down the wards was a safety issue in and of itself. Not to mention it was a liability to have the incantation I used in earshot of anyone I had over while they stood at the door waiting to be let in. Paranoid, me? Nah. 

I dumped my bag and duster on the kitchen table as I walked by and dropped my staff off in its corner of the living room. My pillow and blanket were still on couch from the last time I had slept here. I had a bed upstairs but it was still piled up with boxes of miscellanea that I hadn’t gotten around to sorting through yet. I paused at the front door before I opened it. It occurred to me that Marcone was about to pull me into some serious shit. My life would probably be threatened at some point. Physical injury and mental anguish seemed like a given. But, if I could get a favor out of it from the Baron of Chicago… I let my mind hypothesize all the ways I could utilize a get-out-of-jail-free card from Marcone. Hell’ss Bells, that was probably why Lea told me he was looking for me. To have the Baron of Chicago owe a favor to the Winter Knight. That would certainly make Mab happy. But, a happy Mab was not necessarily in Harry Dresden’s best interests. I would have to be careful in my wording of whatever he wanted from me. I wanted him in my debt, sure, just not necessarily in _Winter’s_.

I opened the door and looked out at the sleek black SUV idling in my driveway next to my ’49 Plymouth Deluxe. It was no Blue Beetle, may she rest in peace, but even I could admit the Plymouth was _nice looking_ car. I watched Marcone step out of the driver’s side of the SUV as Gard exited the passenger side. I frowned. No Hendricks? I don’t think I had ever seen Marcone drive himself anywhere, and I’d known him for damn near 15 years. I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Yep, this was gonna go south quickly.

“Baron Marcone. Ms. Gard,” I said, standing in the doorway as they approached. “Be welcome in my home as guests, conditionally, I agree to hear your troubles and provide counsel but I accept no involvement in your affairs,” I arched an eyebrow. “Agreed?”

Marcone met my gaze fearlessly as he straightened his cufflinks. He held my gaze for a moment longer than was comfortable, reminding me that he was one of the only people alive who could. His expression, dull like his eyes, gave away nothing, but he nodded once in acquiescence. I felt my upper pull back from my incisor. I’ve been dicked around enough in my life by inferences and assumptions during bargaining. And I had been spending _a lot_ of time with the Fae.

“Verbally, if you’d be so kind,” I responded. Behind Marcone, Gard’s chin lifted slightly. A tell. I’d surprised her. No easy trick, considering she was a centuries old Valkyrie. I slid my sight back to Marcone, his gaze had turned calculating. He didn’t like my terms. That was clear enough to read on him now. But he was pressed for time, as he had already admitted to me over the phone. He would either agree or waste precious minutes trying to implicitly guarantee my consent to participate in his undoubtedly soon to be shit show. I casually leaned against the door frame and decided to take a bit of a gamble.

“What’s it going to be, _John_? I’m sure wherever Cujo is, he’d appreciate it if you’d hurry and make up your mind.” I watched a myriad of emotions cross his face. Shock, anger, suspicion…resignation. He drew a breath that set his shoulders into a tight square in his stupidly expensive pinstripes. The man probably hadn’t bought off the rack in two decades.

“I agree to your terms, Mr. Dresden.” Gard consented to the same.

“Alright, then,” I said. “Please come in.”

I herded them into my study. It sounds fancier than it really is. It was mostly empty shelving, a couple of chairs and a desk that Molly picked out, and several stacks of boxes of books that I hadn’t gotten around to unpacking. I perched on the front of the desk and let them take the two chairs. The desk chair was stacked with journals.

“I’d offer you something to drink, but,” I gestured at the mess indifferently.

Marcone settled easily into the seat across from me. “Let’s not waste time with pleasantries, Mr. Dresden. I think we know each other well enough by now to know how hollow it would be. I came to you for your help. Mr. Hendricks, as you seem to already be aware, has been abducted. The last time he was accounted for was yesterday morning. He went home for lunch and failed to return to the office. A search of his residence indicated he made it home, but there were no any signs of foul play. His car was still in the parking lot and his cell phone and keys were left in the usual spot in his kitchen. I want you to help me find him and bring him home.”

I scrubbed the scruff on my chin, thinking. “Do you have any suspects?”

“I believe it was the Formor. They’ve been pressing into our territory for past several months. Chicago is well known as a safe place for practitioners, but recently we’ve been experiencing an increase in disappearances, nearly as many as when the Formor first became active. I believe Mr. Hendricks was taken to be interrogated on the city’s defenses.”

I nodded. That all tracked. My sources had located a number of Formor prison facilities across the southern hemisphere. So far they had kept their distance from Winter’s lands in the nevernever, and for the most part they had been beaten back out of North America by the Wardens et al, so it hadn’t become an issue I had to personally be involved in.

I gestured to Gard. “Seems like you’ve got the means and the mode right there to accomplish your agenda. Why do you want to drag me into it?”

Marcone and Gard both grimaced. “I was forced to make some unsavory concessions in my contract renegotiations with MonOc Securities. One such clause was that any of my personnel to fall in battle would be subject to recruitment by Mr. Vadderung. He has previously hinted that he wants Mr. Hendricks… on his own team, as it were. Therefore, Ms. Gard is not permitted to assist me in this endeavor. She knows he is still alive, but that’s all she can provide.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Ok, so to recap. We’re 24 hours missing, probable suspect is Formor, no idea _where_ he is, but he’s still alive as of now. I’m assuming you have samples for the traditional tracking methods?”

Marcone nodded. “In a nutshell, and yes.”

Standard rescue mission, I thought wryly, what could go wrong? “Have you tried renegotiating with MonOc for this particular employee? Vadderung’s never turned me down outright. He’s generally pretty amicable. Even if he does want Hendricks for himself, what’s another 20-30 years to a literal god, right?”

“Who do you think I went to first, Mr. Dresden? Once it became apparent what had happened to Mr. Hendricks I requested a private meeting with Mr. Vadderung. He saw me immediately. His only advice was that the ‘wheel of fate it already in motion. Consult the wizard.’

I rocked back on my hands against the desk and considered the ceiling in my study. “Yeah, see that makes it sound like somebody’s pulling my strings.” I looked back down at Marcone with a grim smile. “I think you know how I feel about that.”

Marcone glared at me, determination and resignation warring on his face. I thought I had him backed sufficiently into a corner, willing to cut any deal I wanted, and I _wanted_. I wanted John Fucking Marcone in _my_ debt for once. He’d spent years trying to collar me. Turnabout felt _good_.

“You know I can find him, _and_ get him back. Easy. Kind of my specialty, all things considered. Just depends on how much it’s worth to you. You know you’ll owe me for this.” Marcone nodded once, slowly. Gard looked pained. I wanted to press her, ask her why was she being so quiescent about all this, but I couldn’t pass up my opportunity with Marcone.

“Alright.” I leveled my attention on Marcone. “I, Harry Dresden, Wizard of the White Council and Winter Knight of the Unseelie, agree to work in alliance with you, John Marcone, Baron of Chicago, to locate and then return Nathan Hendricks, your second in command, to your domain. In return for these two favors, you will be beholden to me for two favors of equal value. Do you agree?”

Marcone shook his head ruefully. “Are you sure you’re not half Sidhe, Dresden? Only a fairy could twist this into two favors.” He held up a hand, “Wait, no, don’t answer that. I don’t want to have to owe you for that too.” He turned and looked at Gard. It was a question, should he agree or no? She shrugged helplessly. “I want him back as much as you do,” she admitted quietly. And that, more than anything, seemed to put steel back into him. He turned back to me and his faded green eyes had fire back in them. “I agree to your terms.”

I beamed at him. That’s twice, I thought, third time’s the charm.


	2. Make With The Magic

I clapped my hands once. “Alright, done and done. Get me the samples. As soon as I find him we’ll move on it. Cujo’s a tough sonofabitch but to be honest he’s kind of grown on me, so let’s get this shit show moving.”

Marcone gestured to Gard and she withdrew a small vial of blood and a baggie of reddish-orange hair and passed them over to me.

“How fresh is this?” I asked them.

“Senior level assets renew their donations once a month,” she supplied.

I blinked, analyzing the pair. The corner of Marcone’s lip twitched up. “You know, John, I have to admit, sometimes your fastidiousness is pretty impressive.”

“Noted,” he replied blandly.

I took the samples down to my lab. Unlike the rest of the house, I had actually put in some real time and effort into setting up my new work space. Under the stairs was a covered well. It ran down some 200ft into the bedrock and passed directly through one of the leylines that emanated from Demonreach. A sturdy copper pipe ran up from the well through the center of the house and capped off at the roof, it was part of the design to catch excess magical energies in the house and ground them out. They’d be attracted to the copper in the pipe and dragged down by the leyline and subsequently washed away by the water in the well. Sometimes, I impress even myself. The rest of the lab was set up similarly to my old one, albeit with sturdier shelving and more uniform organization. A pair of long work tables ran down the length of the room with an elaborate summoning circle inlaid in the floor at one end. I didn’t have nearly the amount of potion ingredients or wizardly paraphernalia that I once had, but my stock was slowly and steadily expanding. Like her predecessor once had, there was one shelf unoccupied by any clutter or miscellanea. On it sat a carved wooden skull, etched with runes and stylized wards. It was slightly smaller than the genuine article. Her name was Bonea, call her Bonnie. She was a spirit of Air and Intellect. And she was my second born.

Marcone and Gard were following me down the stairs, which I didn’t so much mind, but I didn’t want surprise Bonnie with strangers. She’s pretty new to the whole, _humanity thing_ , so I try to keep her sheltered, just not caged. I gave her three hours a day to leave the house and _observe_ the world at large. No interaction without my express consent. Inevitably, when I would come home from a trip thru the nevernever she would be brimming with questions and stories about her experiences outside the house.

“Company, Bonnie,” I called out quietly as I descended the stairs. Her purple eyelights that had begun to glow as I entered the room immediately winked out. No interactions. I whispered a bit of faux-Latin and waved a hand as a dozen or more candles flared to life, casting the room in a warm glow.

“Go ahead and have a seat,” I told Marcone and Gard. “I’m not sure yet how I’m going to go about this.” There were several tall bar stools around the tables and they each claimed one. I saw Gard quietly eying Bonnie’s skull, but wisely said nothing. I hitched a hip up on one table and considered my supplies, trying to work out an action plan. Marcone almost immediately broke my train of thought.

“How long is this going to take, Mr. Dresden? I have no doubt in your methods, but 24 hours in the hands of my enemies is already 24 hours too long.”

I leveled a scowl at him. “Honestly, Marcone. I don’t have any idea how long it’s going to take. The last time I searched the _entire globe_ for someone I was sixteen and just a teensy bit unstable. I’d like a chance to think it though a little more precisely this time, if that’s alright with you,” I scathed at him.

“Sixteen?” Gard murmured, incredulous. I threw up my hands. “Okay, Lab Rule number 1, no talking while the wizard is wizarding. You want a lesson plan, that costs extra.” They both shut up.

I turned back to the shelves and started pulling down several items. A globe, an atlas, a little box of white chalk, a druzy quartz pendulum. I ran thru a few incantations in my mind, looking for the right verbiage.

 _Quaerere, inveniet, vestigium loco, invenio, promo_ , hmm…I needed something, else, something more to tie this all together. I tapped the box of chalk on the table thoughtfully. Maybe a bit of buckeye or calamus root for luck? I tuned and stared at Gard, an idea slowing building. I frowned in concentration. Vadderung wanted Hendricks. Hendricks was Marcone’s second in command. A norse-affiliated second in command could be considered to be Heimidall. Heimidall’s duty was to guard the bifrost, and warn of any dangers to Asgard. Heimidall was associated with a Ram. Hendricks was big like a ram. His duty could be considered to warn of any dangers to Marcone, and thus Chicago. It pretty much fit. I liked the allegory. Also, I happened to have a ram’s horn. I pulled it out of its bin on the bottom of one of the shelves. It was wrapped in a piece of clean white linen. Very important to keep your magical focus items clean and free of errant magics, you know, for safety.

I paused again, thinking furiously through what steps I was going take, and how I was going to go about it, and what incantations I would use. Magic is largely symbolic, none of this junk I was gathering up was actually necessary to work the spell, but it helped focus the mind of the caster. And I was all in favor of now blowing up my synapses on this.

I set the globe on the end of one table and considered the initial location spell again. I would have to contain it on the globe, not the actual, you know, _globe_. So there would have to be a circle, but the timing would have to near-perfect. I rummaged through an old cigar box on the table that held all my pens and pencils until I found a push pin. “And Bingo was his Name-o” I muttered under my breath.

I set about lining up the items I would need for the spell. I selected a fresh stick of chalk and laid it next to the globe. Then I got out a jar of ground buckeye seed and poured some out into a small dish, setting that next to the globe as well. I added the push pin and the blood and hair from Hendricks. I checked everything again, making sure I had everything I wanted to help focus this thaumaturgic monstrosity. The spell itself would be small, but the scope…well it was a good thing I was a bastion of magical knowhow.

I became keenly aware of two sets of eyes watching me. “Alright, kids, settle down. Show’s about to start,” I murmured. I began pulling in my Will, focusing what I wanted to happen in the spell. I felt the magic start to build, manifesting as a pressure right behind my forehead. The faux-Latin phrases I had cooked up came bubbling out of me, sounding distant to my ears.

“ _fortuna loco, fortuna invenio, fortuna promo,”_ I whispered, sprinkling the buckeye powder over the globe. I took a strand of hair from the baggie and wound it up around the plastic end of the pin, then uncorked the vial of blood and dipped the pin in, making sure one large single drop stayed on the end. “Quaero aries, sequor tutor, reperio custodi canem.” I balanced the pin on top of the globe. The drop of blood looked like it was about to drip off the end. A tang of apprehension settled near my brain stem. I needed that blood to stay on the pin or the spell wouldn’t work. I grabbed up the chalk quickly, I needed to seal this up quick and release the spell. The incantation was a long one, but I was effectively searching every single person on the planet for the right resonance as Hendricks. It needed to be a long one to protect my mind. “ _fortuna loco, fortuna invenio, fortuna promo,”_ I chanted again, encircling the globe in a chalk ring. _“Quaero aries, sequor tutor, reperio custodi canem.”_ On the fly I added a few runes along the inside edge of the circle. Raidho, for the journey we were about to take Dagaz, for success in endeavors, and Tyr, the warrior, for the courage to face down our enemies. “ _fortuna loco, fortuna invenio, fortuna promo. Quaero aries, sequor tutor, reperio custodi canem.”_ My voice had steadily rose in volume and as I reached the end of the third repetition I released my Will. I had to catch myself on the edge of the table as the magic whooshed out of me, I barely had the wherewithal to touch a portion of my Will to the set the circle and wouldn’t that be mind-numbing if this location spell got free across the actual, literal planet and not just this little one-hundred thousandth down-to-size replica.

I heard Marcone’s sharp intake of breath and felt them both lean in closer as the spell picked up the push pin balanced on top of the globe and the blue and green orb began circling on it axis, the pin slowly rising and falling on the vertical, blood calling to blood and all the symbolism and allegory I had worked into the magic of the locator spell seeking out Hendricks through every possible similar resonance on the planet. The globe was picking up speed on its revolutions, which, oops. Sometimes I’m not so great at the whole mass-to-power ratio. I thought it might topple over, it was beginning to wobble on its base and if it crossed the chalk line before the pin sunk home… I gritted my teeth and found myself holding out my hands on either side of the globe to catch it if it tumbled. Not that it would do any good, if anything crossed that circle my brain would end up looking like that commercial of the fried egg on a sidewalk, (this is your brain on drugs) only this would be my brain on fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants-magic.

And then, suddenly I didn’t see the pin anymore. The globe was spinning too fast for me to track if the damn thing had actually landed somewhere. Distantly, I realized I wasn’t breathing, I was just frozen hovering with my hands on either side of that damn globe, literally waiting for the pin to drop. But slowly, the world stopped spinning and I sucked in a huge gulp of air and clutched the globe as soon as I saw the pin stuck into the globe near the equator.

I stared in disbelief. The pin was sticking out of a small town in the Yucatan peninsula. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I showed the pin to Marcone.

“Hell’s bells,” I said, “it just had to be Mexico.”

“That does seem uncanny,” Marcone eventually conceded, eyes narrowed at the pin, almost accusingly.

“I need a breather, my head’s fuzzy from all that spinning,” I announced. “No way I can do the next step yet.” I started for the stairs, “I knew we’re on a deadline, I just need a minute,” I said over my shoulder. I had one goal in mind and that was icebox, where if I was lucky, Thomas would have stashed a few of Mac’s medicinal brews for me. The ice would be long gone, but Mac always intended his brew to be served room temperature anyway. I made my way to the kitchen and checked the icebox, and yes, my brother did still love me.

“Bless you, kind sir,” I spoke to the three bottles of ambrosia sitting in the otherwise empty icebox. I took two out and flopped myself down on the couch, kicking my dirty boots up on the coffee table. Lea picked out the living room. I didn’t feel bad about leaving scuff marks all over it. I had my eyes closed, focusing on _not_ thinking about Chichen Itza, when I became aware of another presence in the room. I didn’t bother opening my eyes. It was Marcone. Don’t ask me how I know.

“Are you sure you’re not half Sidhe, John? You sure move as quietly as one. Wait, no. Don’t answer that. I don’t want to give up one of my freebies.” I drained the last third of my bottle and stuffed the glass between the couch cushions to hold it upright. Then I grabbed the soldier next to it and deftly twisted off the cap and pitched it into the fireplace. It landed with a dull _tink_ as it settled into the old ashes I hadn’t cleaned out the last time I had a fire in there. When had that been? Four months ago? Five? I wasn’t sure anymore. Time moved differently in the nevernever. All I knew for sure was that I had spent significantly more time over there than I had not spent here. But the specific balance escaped me. It just didn’t seem important to keep track of. One time a week had been two months, another time it was twelve hours. Only a mathematician could keep it straight, I thought, and anyway time is relative, right?

“What are you thinking about?” Marcone asked quietly. I heard the soft vacuum of a bottle being opened. That asshole took my last beer, I thought stupidly. Well, I had tried to offer earlier I guess.

I opened one eye to glance at him. “I was thinking about time,” I admitted, closing my eyes again and letting my head fall back to rest against the back of the couch. “Hendricks might not have very much of it. Or you, if that’s the case. I, however, seem to be in an _endless_ supply. Much to my _eternal_ chagrin.” I took another swing of beer. The sound was loud in the silence of the house. Not even the clocks were ticking. I hadn’t bothered to wind them up last time I was here.

Marcone said nothing, but I swear I could hear him thinking. Calculating. He was probably running an internal cost-benefit analysis of this whole interaction. The silence stretched.

“I haven’t been back,” I admitted. My thoughts were loud in my head. It seemed I might as well vocalize, he could probably hear them anyway. “Not since… you know.” I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. “Lea- my godmother, the Leanansidhe- she was supposed to take me back and show me where-“ My eyes pricked and I cut myself off, twisting up my face to cut out that nonsense. That wasn’t going to do anybody any good. “Supposed to show me where Susan is buried,” I continued, “But she never brought it up, and I didn’t ask. So I haven’t been back.” I lifted my head and studied Marcone. He seemed to regard me intently, letting me talk.

“And now here we are. I’m headed back to Chichen Itza. It’s the horror that just keeps on giving.” I stood up, draining my bottle. “Come on,” I said, holding out my hand to Marcone to help him up, “lemme knock off the next part of this track so I can narrow down where he is, then we can get moving.”

Marcone stared at my hand, then met my gaze again. “Harry,” he asked softly, “why don’t you live here?”

I dropped my hand like he’d slapped it. “I do live here,” I said automatically.

He slowly shook his head. “Let’s agree not to lie to each other anymore. I’m tired of the dance. I’ve had surveillance on this street since Mr. Carpenter began construction. The past several months, you might stay here four or five days out of the whole month. What are you running from?”

I licked my lips. Creepy, stalker Marcone had his goonsquad casing my house, taking note of when I was here or not. I scowled at him. I think right then I felt as tired as he looked.

“You want honesty? Just Listen,” I said, and let the silence envelop us like a woolen blanket. I stood still, watching as the silence began to make him uncomfortable. Humans are not meant to live in a vacuum. We need stimulation or we go crazy. But this house, was quiet like the grave. Nothing stirred. No air conditioner, no heater. No appliances kicking on and off, no TV, no noisy upstairs neighbors, no pets, no anything. It was completely devoid of life.

“It’s lonely,” I admitted after several minutes, “and it reminds me of when I dead.” I turned around before I could see the look on his face, dropping my two empty soldiers in the trash as I passed through the kitchen to the basement stairs. The _thunk_ as they hit the bottom of the trash can sounded like a rifle report.


	3. Seek And You Shall Find

Gard was, predictably, inspecting my lab when I descended the stairs. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not polite to snoop?” I cajoled her. She didn’t even have the grace to look caught.

“The skull is interesting,” she commented, reshelving the book she had been flipping through. “Would you be opposed to letting me speak to it?”

I scowled at her. “Strongly opposed,” I said.

She shrugged as if that was answer she was expecting. “There were rumors, of course, that you were in possession of such an artifact. But one can never be sure what’s truth and what’s rumor when it comes to you, can they? I do find it interesting, that the skull described by Kimmler was human bone and yet, this one is wooden.”

I knew it was bait. She was clearly fishing for information. If I had any doubt that Bob’s existence wasn't already known to Vadderung I wouldn’t have copped to it. Anything I told Gard would be turned over to both Marcone and Vadderung, I had no doubt. Vadderung was Grey Council, and seemed to have taken a personal interest in my general welfare. I trusted that he was an ally, and it had never been a mistake sharing information with him. The only real question here was if I wanted this information in Marcone's hands. I seemed to be in sharing mood today, I decided to a little trust would eventually pay off. Besides, I could hear him making his way back across the kitchen to the lab, doubtless he was satisfied with snooping around my living room and kitchen. He'd already seen the lack of anything in my icebox. 

I gave Gard a lopsided smile. “I wouldn’t have let you down here if I thought you were a threat to her." I motioned at Bonnie's skull. “But you have to understand, she’s young. She knows a lot, but she doesn’t have any context for what she knows,” I explained, glossing over her Kimmler comment. “One day, when we’re not on a schedule, I guess I wouldn’t have a problem with you talking to her. But not today. And not unsupervised."

"Truly?" She questioned, clearly surprised. "You would allow it?"

I showed her my hands. "Do I look like a liar?"

She shook her head, abashed. "I didn't mean to imply..." She trailed off. "It just seemed uncharacteristically forthcoming of you."

"Yeah, well. Maybe in the past I was a little cagey." I hooked my thumb back to the top of the stairs. "But Don Juan says were being honest with each other now, and I'm willing to play ball. So," I shrugged.

"Don Juan?" Marcone asked coldly from the top of the stairs. "I take offense to that, Dresden. I may be a lot of things, but a womanizer isn't one of them."

I leaned up casually against the lab table and gave Marcone a once over with my eyes. "I think I could make a good argument against that. Let's start with how many brothels do you own? Remember, we're being hon-est." I drew the word out sarcastically.

Marcone narrowed his eyes and paused for a moment before he answered. “Six. Employment is at-will and the benefits package, as with _all_ my employees, includes the best health care plan available in the state of Illinois. I don’t abuse my employees and I don’t allow anyone else to do so either.” He seated himself back at the table. The words regal and smug did _not_ cross my mind, thank you _very_ much.

“Speaking of,” he continued, “There is still the matter of one of mine potentially being tortured to death at this very moment. Perhaps we could focus? _If that’s alright by you?_ ” He snapped. Ouch. Zinger. Got me there.

I grimaced. “Yeah, point taken. It won’t take me long to pinpoint this, so if you want to go gear up or whatever you should do it now. I was serious about moving on this as soon as I find him.”

Marcone nodded. “I have everything I need in the Escalade. Will I be able to get back in through your wards?”

“Yeah, they’re down for now.” Like hell was I about to volunteer info on how my wards worked. Mutual honesty policy or no. “There’s a bathroom by the bottom of the stairs. Unless you’re going in your Armani, in which case I should mention that the quickest way isn’t the easiest way. We’re looking at two miles across the Egyptian desert, and a bit of cave swimming, and that’s just the sections on the mortal side. The nevernever is always unpredictable, so use your discretion I guess. I’m assuming at least one of this party will be injured for the trip back, so I’ll get us to the quickest part of Winter’s territory and then I can call up some faerie mounts and we’ll just ride to the part of Winter that borders Chicago. That’ll take longer, but it’ll be safer and easier.”

“I’ll leave it you to it then,” Marcone said. “Ms. Gard, any advice?”

She made her small shrug again. “You know I cannot be involved. I’ll remain here. I can have a medical team on stand-by. I would not advise attempting an air extraction from anywhere near the Yucatan Peninsula. The region is overrun by Fomor. My advice is to follow Dresden’s plan. No one will challenge you in Winter so long as you’re accompanied by the Winter Knight in the completion of a bargain. I cannot speculate as to the conditions you’ll face once you reach the destination. I don’t have any intelligence on any Fomor strong holds, they remain elusive.”

“Well, the ones I’ve been advised of aren’t physically impressive,” I told them. “Their prisons are usually just a simple cinder block building, maybe five to ten prisoners max. Minimal warding and minimal outright defenses. Interrogation usually only lasts a few days, a week at most, as far as I’ve seen. You either spill the beans or they thrall you into a service. Or, you know,” I gestured at slashing my throat. “The part we’ll have to watch out for are the interrogators. They’re nothing to mess with. You’ve got to remember they’re a conglomeration of multiple different races, the smartest and the strongest survivors of the Sidhe wars. There’s no way of know what kind of strength or abilities they’ll have, they’re all different. The only thing I can say for sure that all have in common is the use of water magic, which is hard as hell to counter. The only way I see us getting this done successfully is to get in and get out without being seen. If it comes down to fight, we’ll likely all be killed. Just, so you know.”

“Well, for you, maybe,” Gard chided, with a grin.

“Hey, I’ve never claimed evocation was my forte.” I shot back. “If I can’t push it out of the way or blow it up, I’m not really your guy. My talents lie elsewhere. Never claimed otherwise.”

Gard idly spun the globe from earlier. “Indeed. That was an impressive display of thaumaturgy earlier. I can’t think of another mortal who would be able to produce such a quick and effective trace like that. Even more impressive was how it only took you a few minutes to plan and execute the spell. Were the runes planned? It seemed like an afterthought.”

“Afterthought,” I admitted. “I had another full repetition of the incantation left and I had already used the buckeye, so I figured a little bit of luck couldn’t hurt.”

“You’ve always been a man of many talents,” Marcone murmured. “I’ll always regret not taking the time to have you sign my contract that night with the lycanthropes.”

“Aww Johnny,” I teased, “am I the one that got away?”

He tilted his head consideringly and gave me the once over with his eyes, entirely too animalistic to be comfortable. “Something like that,” he said and headed back up the stairs. “Come find me when you’re finished here.”

I gulped. Yiiikes. And this is the guy I’m about to go out on a limb for, I thought. I shook my head trying to clear my thoughts. “I should have stayed in fairie,” I muttered. I got to work.

It was a cakewalk to finish the second half of the tracking spell. This had been my bread and butter for years. Of course, back then my range hadn’t been what it was now. I don’t think I could have pulled off this particular spell back then, but the bones were the same. I flipped open the atlas to Mexico and tied the quartz pendulum to the ram’s horn. A little wrap of red-orange hair and a dab of blood, abracadabra- alakazam, and the pendulum was pointing rigidly to a spot of rainforest less than 10 miles outside the complex of Chichen Itza.

“Honestly, whose surprised here?” I asked no one in particular. Gard had watched me work quietly, but now that the spell was complete she spoke up.

“What was the significance of the ram’s horn?”

“Uh…” It seemed kind of stupid to admit my reasoning out loud. “I’ll tell you if you promise not to laugh,” I hedged.

She smiled bemused. “Then I swear I will not laugh.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “So, normally my tracking spells aren’t this long-distance. I figured I needed a little umph, symbolically speaking, to make the connection to Cujo. So I was thinking about how you guys mentioned that Vadderung had his eye on him,” I grinned, “Pun intended, by the way,” I joked. She groaned. It was hilarious.

“So anyway, I wanted to make another mental connection to him to help anchor the spell symbolically and I sort of started associating him to Heimdall. They’re both guardians of the land. I don’t know if Heimdall is necessarily considered second in command or anything, but he was Thor’s right hand man in the comics, so it made sense at the time. And Heimdall’s always pictured in all the books with a ram’s horn helmet and I happened to have a ram’s horn on hand, so. Look, I don’t claim it’s a perfect allegory. I just needed a little extra padding in the spell.”

Gard looked pleased as punch. “I think, Dresden, that he will be immensely delighted to be compared to the great warrior Heimdall.”

I blanched. “Don’t you dare tell him. His head will get even bigger than it is already.”

“I swore I would not laugh, but it is a challenge,” she said grinning, but she sobered suddenly. “Bring him home, Dresden. Both of them. He means much to me as well.”

I studied her seriously. “I’ll do everything I can,” I told her.

“I know you will,” she said, reaching over and clasping my shoulder tightly. “You are a good and honorable man, Harry Dresden. I have no doubt you will bring Radur home. I only regret not being able to go with you. But, Fates willing, we will fight together again soon enough,” She grinned fiercely, “And I look forward to that day.”

“Just promise not to get eviscerated again and we’ll be good,” I joked and punched her lightly on the shoulder.

“Ah. Yes. It’s most unpleasant.” She looked back at Bonnie’s skull and nodded once. “I won’t forget that either,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah, go help the boss man get his knives on or something. I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” I told her, ushering her up the stairs.

Once she was out of sight I went back to Bonnie. “Hey, we’re clear,” I said, clearing off the table. Her lavender eyelights lit up and she swirled around the room, brushing warmly against my aura. It was an air spirit’s version of a hug.

“You just got home and you’re already leaving again!” She complained. “I had so much I wanted to tell you.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” I told her. “It shouldn’t take long. Definitely not more than a few days at most. And when I get back I promise we’ll talk. You can tell me all about it then.” Her eyelights faded and sunk back into her skull. “Alright,” She said quietly, disappointed. “Be careful Harry.” I leaned over and kissed her skull.

“Always,” I told her. I hated to leave her. She never asked me stay before. I wondered if she got lonely when I wasn’t around. I waved a hand from the stairs and extinguished the candles. “I love you Bonea,” I told her. I watched her eyelights light up momentarily, but she didn’t say anything. She probably didn’t understand what that meant, I told myself. It’s not that she’s mad at you for leaving.

Upstairs, I checked the contents of my backpack. I still had several meals worth of dried food, and I was getting pretty good at scavenging if we got stuck anywhere. I had my road kit for spell work, chalk, iron, holy water, playdough, a small wind-up car, a deck of cards, and a few candles. I also had a box of ammo for my revolver, a first aid kit, and a change of clothes. I donned my leather duster, grabbed my staff and my blasting rod and I was good to go.

Marcone and Gard were talking quietly in the living room. I went through and turned the locks on the front door. He had changed into what I can only describe as assassin chic. He had on black fatigues, heavy soled boots and enough visible weapons to outfit a small army. I didn’t want to think about the shit he had hidden. I watched him pass over a large black gym bag and his cell phone to Gard.

“We’ll go out the back door when you’re ready,” I told them and headed that way myself.

It was only a few minutes longer when Gard and Marcone emerged from the house. I locked up behind them.

“The wards will reset as soon as I step off the property,” I told Gard. “You’ll be fine walking through the yard, but don’t try and get back into the house.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she told me solemnly. 

I walked out into the yard and cut a Way into the nevernever and stepped across into Winter. Marcone and Gard nodded to each other and he followed me through.


	4. Road Trip

I walked out into the yard and cut a Way into the nevernever and stepped across into Winter. Marcone and Gard nodded to each other and he followed me through. The other side from my house was a vast empty field next to a frozen lake. You could see for miles in all directions. The only structure was a small cottage surrounded by a low stone wall.

“I need to run inside for a minute,” I told Marcone, walking up the cottage.

He followed behind me, eyes taking in every detail. “This is yours?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, technically. Used to belong to this Sidhe noble named-“ I paused trying to remember, “well, I can’t remember his name. He was one of Maeve’s hangers-on. He challenged me to a duel because I told the court that they couldn’t abuse mortals in my presence and he decided he was going to try and force himself on this changeling girl at one of the Queen’s solstice feasts. I can’t remember when, it was awhile back. So basically, I killed him and took his house.” I deliberately didn’t look at him as I admitted to the murder. I reached up and ran my hand lightly down the center of the door. A stylized pentacle, with a five sided snowflake instead of a star blazed vibrant blue and faded quickly. The wards were down. I opened the door and Marcone followed me in. It was as small inside as it looked from the outside. I could have made it bigger if I wanted, but I had no need. It was mostly a junk drawer for all my more dangerous paraphernalia. It was a single room, with a small kitchenette, a sleeping cot, a hearth, and a few large wardrobes, travel trunks and an old worn rocking chair. I had a sword slug over the back of the rocking chair and I grabbed it and buckled it across my hips. It kinda clashed with my mud-stained jeans and Led Zepplin t-shirt, but I wasn’t going for fashion. I kicked open one of the trunks and pulled out a small jeweler’s box and selected several rings. I rummaged around in the bottom until I found the pair of iron and obsidian knives and strapped one on each calf under my jeans. Marcone watched me silently, calculating everything. I hesitated on the 30-30 Winchester bolt action over the mantle but decided to pass on it. It probably wouldn’t survive the swim.

I turned towards the door.

“You’re not taking the rifle?” Marcone asked.

“I thought about it,” I told him as I ran my hand over the door reactivating the wards, “But, the gun powder’s just gonna get wet and then the stock will probably get all rusty, and I _like_ that gun. Thomas gave it to me. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“You are sentimental about the oddest things,” Marcone said. We were walking out to the center of the lake. “I thought you broke up with the vampire several years ago.”

I snorted. Then I broke into a hearty belly laugh. “Stars, John, you still believe that? That was a _cover_. Thomas was never my b-boyfriend,” I stuttered over the word, I could barely make myself say it out loud. “We were at war with the Red Court, and the Whites were allied with the Reds. The only reason we got away with him living with me for so long was because he was exiled. But if the Council had known who he really was to me they would have used it against me for intel on the Courts. So we came up with a more believable lie.”

Marcone was listening to me so intently he slipped on the ice. I caught his arm on reflex as he tried to catch his balance. “Easy there,” I scolded him. He had a death grip on my elbow and his money green held mine longer than I was comfortable with. I watched him lick his lips.

“Then who is he?”

I pulled out of his grip. We were on unsteady ground now.

“If you don’t already know I’m not sure if I should tell you,” I said. “You might try and use it against me too.” We were almost to the weak spot in the middle of the lake. I stopped before we came up on it.

“What if I promise not to?”

I scowled at him. “Why do you care?”

He shrugged. “Just accept that I do. And I promise not to use it against you. Or him. Will you tell me?”

“You’re a god-damned stalker, John. This isn’t just another bullet point in your dossier on Harry Dresden. This is my life.”

Marcone was determined. And an excellent negotiator. I had a feeling I was going to end up losing this argument. “So, you need more than just a promise of secrecy.”

“No, Marcone. Drop it,” I said. “It’s not my secret.” I strode out to the weak spot and tore open the next Way. I’m not ashamed to admit that I savored the shock on his face.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I told you we were going swimming,” I said innocently. “We’ll drop down, then it’s ten long stokes to the wall and the next Waypoint. It’s going to be pitch black sea water and ice cold. If you want I have a rope we can tether together.

Marcone looked down at the dark water and back up to me.

“Yeah, get the rope.”

We made it through the water to the next Waypoint and I slashed it open with my right hand and pulled on the rope tethering Marcone to me with my left. We crashed through the opening and he landed on top of me along with a flood of ectoplasm. It was pitch black and hot. Hotter than I had anticipated. Think, hot like the sun, and I’m talking about the cave, not the fact that Marcone was pressed against my chest, panting for breath. I willed light into my pentacle amulet and drew a shield around us, insulting it with arctic air. I shoved Marcone off me and scrambled to my feet looking around. We were in a crystalline cavern. Huge, bigger than city bus sized crystals sprouted out from the walls of the cave and reflected oddly in my wizard light. I wasn’t precisely sure how to get to the next point from here. The Ways were changing, but I had pretty firm grasp now on how the different resonances worked. This cavern was new. I thought we were going to end up in the desert by Giza.

“Shit,” I whispered.

Marcone had pulled himself to his feet and was wiping ectoplasm from his face.

“Why are you saying ‘Shit’? Don’t say ‘Shit’. ‘Shit’ implies something has gone wrong, and we don’t have time for mistakes.” He leaned down on his knees, still gasping for air. I realized I was struggling for oxygen as well. “Jesus Christ I can barely breathe in here,” he gasped.

“Yep, well, I told you the nevernver was unpredictable. The good news is, I’m pretty sure we’re in Mexico. The bad news is, I don’t fucking know how to get out of here. This isn’t where we were supposed to end up. So. Shit.”

“Are you saying we’re trapped? “He asked alarmed.

“No! No. Nothing like that. I can find another Way. I just need a minute.” I sat back down on the floor of the cave. The ectoplasm was quickly evaporating.

“What are you doing? We have to get out of here, and you’re sitting down!” He was getting frantic.

“Hey,” I said in as calm a voice as I could manage. I was beginning think Marcone had claustrophobia. “We’re alright. I just need to concentrate for a second so I can find another weak spot for a Waypoint. We are _not_ trapped.” I emphasized. “Just sit down and breathe.”

He reluctantly sat down, staring at me with eyes too wide. “Get us out of here Dresden,” he growled.

I flicked my hand at him, muttered a quick, “ _vintas arctis_ ,” and sent another blast of arctic air at him.

“Less talking, more calming the fuck down, John. I just need to get a quick feel of this place. Just give me a minute.”

I closed my eyes and let my arcane senses loose, feeling out the resonance of the cavern. The place was huge. There were weak spots all over in here. That was weird. I felt my breathing slow. I could focus on each individual waypoint and tell where it might lead. I let my senses drift from point to point, looking for something close to Chichen Itza. I focused on the sense of the leylines I remembered converging there. I was pretty sure I could find the one I had tapped back then even if I was blindfolded with both arms tied behind my back. Once you touch a leyline like that, it stays with you. I thought, maybe that spot, I held up my hand off to the left trying to focus my senses. I was feeling light headed, hard to focus. We were running out of oxygen. The Waypoint felt good though. I was pretty sure it would lead to the same leyline. Not sure where _at_ on that line, hopefully not too terribly far from Chichen Itza, and hopefully somewhere with air, but it was better than staying where we were. I opened my eyes.

“Come on, I think I found one,” I panted. I held up my pentacle light and kept the shield around us as we clambered over gargantuan crystals to the weak spot I had sensed.

“Um. Okay,” I said, breathless. “Here goes nothing.” I reached out and caught reality, muttered a soft, “Apparturum.” The way opened onto a jungle landscape I recognized. I laughed, and sing-songed a line from one of my favorite songs. “ _I done told you once you son of a bitch, I’m the best there’s ever been._ ” I grabbed Marcone’s hand and pulled him along behind me.

We stepped out into the jungle and both of us drew huge lung fulls of air for several seconds. We were near the columns leading up to the pyramid. I could feel the leyline swirling by under our feet. I released Marcone’s hand and dropped down to touch the ground. I could call that leyline again if I needed. It recognized me too.

“Did you just quote Charlie Daniels back there?” Marcone asked, his eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Uh, maybe? Not if you’re gonna laugh about it though.”

I stood up and looked around. We weren’t far from the stone pillars outside Chichen Itza. I shrugged off my backpack and got out the props for my tracking spell.

I drew a quick circle in the dirt and closed it around me with a small effort of will. After applying a another drop of blood and a length of hair to the pendulum still tied suspended from the ram’s horn I muttered my usual tracking incantation “ _segui votro testatum_ _.”_ I could feel the spell trying to pull off to the east. I stood and brushed my foot against the circle releasing the spell. The pendulum immediately pulled to the east. I heard Marcone suck in a quick breath.

“He’s still alive,” he said.

“Yeah, for now,” I agreed. I passed the pendulum to Marcone. “Here, hold this. I need another set of hands.” I got out the map and checked the spot I had marked from the spell earlier. “Okay, two options,” I said after studying the map. “Option one is we hike it. Straight shot through the jungle following the tracking spell. Looks like it’ll be at least a few miles. It’ll probably take forever but it’s a sure bet that we’ll at least be headed in the right direction. Option two is a gamble. There aren’t any roads shown on this map going out to where I pinpointed Hendricks’s location, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t really a road out there. In fact I think there probably is a road, we just need to find it. So, option two is we head back over here,” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder, “to the temple complex find a car to _borrow_ and try and find the road.”

Marcone stared blankly at me for a moment, then arched a single eyebrow. “Just to be clear, you are offering to steal a vehicle, correct?”

“ _Borrow_ ,” I repeated, strongly. “And, you’ll need to be the one doing the borrowing.” I gestured at myself. “Last time I tried to hotwire a car- well, it blew up.” I admitted with an embarrassed grin. 

Marcone just shook his head and passed the pendulum back to me. “I haven’t stolen car since I was 17,” he said, eyes shining with…something. He strode off at a quick lope towards the temple complex and I struggled to shove everything back in the backpack and hurried to catch up.

“Hey! Wait a second!” I called out to him.“You can’t go strutting around here looking like America’s Next Top Assassin,” I complained. “This place is a tourist hot spot. I mean, you know, when it’s not being used for ritualistic bloodline curses.” I took off one of my rings and held it out to him. “Give me your hand you need a disguise.”

He obediently held out his hand and I slipped the ring on his index finger. I twisted it three times, focusing my will on the glamour and whispered, “ _caecus opscuro_.” I stepped back to check my work.

He looked down at himself too and I almost lost it at the horrified expression on his face.

“Dresden.” He asked in a voice that could cut steel, “ _What_ have you done to me?”

Where there had once been an intimidating mob boss in his best assassin chic, there now stood a clone of every middle-aged dad everywhere. His normally handsome face had gained a few pounds and his striking green eyes bled out to a dull hazel. He had on a white polo shirt tucked into a pair of khaki cargo shorts that looked at least one size too big. His belt looked as old and worn as his white tube socks and walmart sneakers.

I was trying to contain myself when I watched him flick his wrist and a four-inch blade appeared in his hand. I immediately sobered.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy killer!” I stammered, throwing my hands in the air in an, ‘I surrender’ gesture. “It’s just a simple glamour. A disguise. An illusion!” I explained, backing up several feet. I could almost feel that blade sinking into the side of my neck. Marcone had the oddest look on his face and I thought for sure I was about to be taken out by the O-G Dad version of Gentlemen Johnny Marcone.

“ _Relax_ Harry,” he sighed, making the knife disappear again. “I was simply checking to ensure my weapons were still accessible. Surely you don’t think I’d let you bring me all the way down here just to kill you now.”

I eyed him dubiously. “I think you’d try and kill me because it’s a day ending in ‘y’, Marcone.” I thought I saw something flash across his face then. Hurt? Regret? That didn’t fit. I must have been reading him wrong.

“We’re wasting time,” he said and resumed his advance across the field of pillars.

I repeated the spell with my own ring and morphed into a much shorter, blander version of myself, sans staff, sword and duster. I followed behind Marcone silently, trying to keep my head clear.

We were making our way to a parking lot near the ball court when we passed by the base of the ziggurat pyramid. I stopped and looked up to the top where the temple stood. I could see the stone table still up there. I thought it looked a sight different without vampires crawling all over and blood running down the steps. I wondered where Susan was.

Marcone gave me a space for a few minutes. The complex wasn’t too busy today, but there was still a steady stream of tourists filing past us. Neither one of us looked out of place to be standing at the base of the pyramid looking introspective. Eventually though, he touched my arm lightly bringing me out of my reverie. “We have to go, Harry,” He said quietly. He had that weird look on his face again.

I nodded once and followed after him towards the parking lot. We didn’t speak again until we were driving out of the complex in a _borrowed_ compact SUV.

“Give me back the ring,” I said and held out my hand. He dropped it into my open palm and he was once again his usual scary self. I cancelled the glamour on myself as well and pulled the pendulum out of my backpack and hung it over the review mirror. It was still steadily pointing east. I didn’t think he needed driving instructions so I let him take the wheel( har har, pun intended) following the pendulum down a paved two lane road, away from Chichen Itza. I watched the temple disappear behind the jungle canopy.

Marcone broke the silence. “Tell me who Thomas is and I’ll swear not to use the information against you or him _and_ I’ll share a secret about myself of equal value.”

I sighed. “Seriously, why do you care? Is this an OCD thing? I saw your soul, remember? I know how obsessed you can get.”

He glanced at me, keeping one eye on the road. I think his mouth may have twitched at the corner. “So is that a yes?

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I considered what it could mean to Thomas and me for Marcone to know this about us.

“I’ve enjoyed being honest with you, so far,” Marcone said nonchalantly, as if those words didn’t mean anything.

I opened my eyes and stared at the roof of the car.

“You’re a terrible negotiator,” I said finally. “You’re not supposed to keep offering me a better deal until I give in.”

“Hmm,” he hummed. “But, you’re going to tell me now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you,” I admitted. This was the opening I had been waiting for after all. Third time’s a charm and all that. I heard myself offering the bargain, but the magic pooling around us was what had the majority of my attention. “I will tell you the true relationship between myself and Thomas on the condition that you swear to never tell anyone else or use this information in a way that would harm either myself or Thomas. Do you agree to these terms?” I felt the magic of the binding hovering in the air, waiting for Marcone to say the next five words and seal his fate.

“I agree to your terms,” he said automatically.

The binding shot through us like lightening, snapping into place. I sucked in a breath and shivered violently and Marcone damn near ran us off the road.

“Jesus Christ!” He swore, pulling off into the grass. “The hell was that?” he demanded.

I turned my head slowly and looked him in the dead in the eyes. I could feel the binding stronger when I was looking into his eyes I realized.

“Thrice and bound,” I said dully. “You’ve stated three times now that you agree to my terms. You never specified which.”

Marcone looked pale, and livid. “Whatever you’ve done, undo it now.”

“Sorry, doesn’t work that way. Thrice and _done_ , John. You’re bound to me now. You agreed to my terms, whichever they may be.”

He stared at me, shocked, and I watched him run thought a hundred thought processes at once. He had a dozen questions and arguments ready to start falling from his lips. I’d let him get the most significant out of the way, but I noticed the pendulum was leaning in a new direction. We had found the road. Marcone hadn’t noticed yet, he was too stunned.

“So, you really are some kind of fae, then? You have a soul. How is that possible?”

I licked my lips. This was an uncomfortable topic for me. But I agreed to tell him who Thomas was, so…

“I’m mortal. Or as mortal as someone in my position can be. Thomas and I, well, _our_ mother was Margret LeFay. LeFay is a moniker. She was a mortal wizardess who had notoriety for associating with the Sidhe. The more time you spend with the Sidhe, the more they change you. I had ties to the Winter Court before I was even born. My freaking godmother is the Queen’s handmaiden. And ever since I took the Knighthood I’ve been getting closer to the Sidhe myself. I can work glamours now and I have a better understanding of the Ways. And,” I continued, “When I make a bargain, it’s every bit as binding. So, all that is to say, that I’m not technically Sidhe, but I might be splitting some very fine hairs.”

I watched him calculating everything, filing everything into an organized box. This piece of information tucked away for later, sticky note on that one, ‘ _ask harry to explain’_ , highlighter over that one bit.

“Thomas is your brother,” he said finally.

“Half-brother,” I corrected. “My father was a vanilla mortal. Thomas’s father is Lord Raith.”

He nodded once, I watched him ticking off boxes in his mind. “What do you mean by bound to you? Can you make me act against my will now?”

I shrugged. “I mean, technically I always could have done that. It’s not difficult to enthrall someone. It takes a huge effort of will, but it’s not technically difficult. But it’s also illegal. It breaks both the Third and Forth Laws of Magic. So the question shouldn’t be can I force you, but will I force you, to which the answer is no, that’s illegal.”

“But you could,” Marcone acknowledged. “If you wanted to, you could.”

“Hell’s Bells, John. Sure, yeah, I could if I wanted to. I could also set you on fire and burn you until even your bones were ash. I could also kill you and bring you back as a zombie, or go back in time and make sure that bullet hits you and not Amanda Beckitt. But I won’t _do_ any of those things because they’re all illegal.”

“Then I don’t understand. Why bind me to you if it doesn’t mean anything since you say you won’t act on it?”

“Oh it means something,” I explained to him. “You’ve agreed to my terms, whichever they may be, indefinitely. But say something comes up and you decide not to honor our agreement. You have that choice. But you should know that breaking a deal like this has severe and possibly irrevocable consequences. But, again, that’s still your choice.”

“So, it’s blackmail? Do what I say or else?”

I shrugged again. “I like to think of it as stacking the deck. I know that the Queen is making plans again. Her plans usually involve me getting torn to shreds trying to work her will, but I _like_ breathing. I saw an opportunity to snag a get-out-jail-free card from you and I took it. As Baron you have certain leverages and…” I trailed off trying to find the right words. “I don’t have any intention of asking you to do anything against your will. You know how much my autonomy meant to me… Before. So- just. It’s precautionary.” I stuttered.

Marcone stared at me like he was genuinely confused and trying to figure me out. “Harry, in all our long history, when have I _ever_ not done everything in my power to help you any time you asked? And for _what_ in return? I just don’t understand why you thought this was necessary.” Stars, he made it sound like the coach was disappointed in my performance at the homecoming game. I did not feel guilty or ashamed of my behavior; I swear it on my grave. But I turned away from him anyway.

“It’s different now,” I said. “We’re not trading personal favors anymore. I’m the Winter Knight and Regional Commander to the Wardens. You’ve been Baron for almost a decade, nobody expected that to last. You’ve proved yourself. You have status. We’re not who we were.”

I watched him calculate, consider, and compartmentalize. Hell’s bells, his brain terrified me.

“I know you’re probably pissed at me right now, and I’m honestly sorry for that. It’s terrible timing, for sure. But I need you to set this to the side for now because you’re clearly not focusing on the real issue right now.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “And what is the real issue, Harry? Because for the life of me, I cannot think of it.”

I silently pointed up to the pendulum.

It took him a moment to open his eyes and see why I wasn’t talking. I watched his eyes track from me, to the pendulum to the cut off right up the road from us. It looked like a gravel driveway, blink and you’d miss it.

He took a deep breath. Nodded once, and turned off the car. I grabbed pendulum and dropped it into a pocket of my duster. We exited the car in unison and I grabbed my staff and backpack from the back seat.

“Operation Rescue Cujo,” I muttered as we started up the drive. I hoped I didn’t get us all killed.


	5. Bad Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: this chapter contains non-explicit non-con. General tags have been updated as well.

Marcone and I were hidden under a veil at the tree line scoping out the building. It was about what I had been expecting. It was a large bunker style building with two garage doors large enough to accommodate armored vehicles. The earth had been built up around it, fortifying the exterior. I figured there was a lot more under the ground than what we could see from where we were. Magical defenses from the outside seemed negligible. There were wards, but they were more of the 'stay away, nothing to see here' variety. I didn't think any alarms were going to go off if we crossed them. Mostly, the issue was how to get in. We had circled the whole exterior and besides the two massive garage doors, (or was that sally ports?) there was only one other entrance, and it appeared to be a cellar door leading straight down. Probably a narrow staircase, easily defendable from the inside by one man with an automatic.

I knelt down in the detritus of the forest floor, considering our options. "What do you think, door one or door two?" I asked Marcone, pointing between the stairwell door and large sally ports.

"Seems like it's six of one and half a dozen of the other," he replied. "Take the larger garage door where we could get more cover, but we'll undoubtedly announce ourselves when the door goes up. However, if we take the stairwell, we might be able to sneak in, unless it's being guarded. Then we're coming under gunfire where we can't defend ourselves." He shrugged. "Can you sense any arcane defenses?"

"Standard go away, don't notice me' type stuff," I told him. "I figure they have non-practitioners coming and going from here frequently. It would be hard to make sure all their delivery drivers had charms to get them through anything more potent. I want to get closer and see if I sense any auras inside. I can't do it from here- there's too much in the way. Honestly, for as simple as this place is, they've got it pretty impressively fortified against covert interlopers such as ourselves."

He rolled his eyes and gestured to the building, "After you, then."

I narrowed my eyes. "Um. ye-ah, about that," I hedged, "I'm gonna need you to stay here. Quietly. And like, try to think small, unobtrusive thoughts."

I don't know how you can non-verbally communicate without moving a single muscle, but I could tell this displeased him. I licked my lips nervously. "You're very loud," I tried to explain. His eye may have twitched slightly. "Metaphysically," I continued, not sure if I was digging a deeper hole. I started backing away. "Your aura. It's very distracting." I rubbed my palms on my jeans. He still hadn't moved. "Anyway, good talk. You stay here and watch for bad guys." I did not run away from the scary mob boss. Anyone who tells you differently is lying.

The sun was beginning to set below the trees casting the clearing around the building in twilight. I kept my veil up and loped across to the bunker. I positioned myself as centrally as I could and sat down with my back up against the cinder blocks. This was probably about to be supremely unpleasant. I steadied my breathing and let my senses begin to tendril out. I caught Marcone first, off in the trees, feline and predatory, quivering, waiting to pounce on something and devour it. If I wasn't already familiar with the sense of him I would have thought there was tiger out there hunting me. I shuddered, pulling my senses away, focusing on seeking within the building. This was different than using my Sight, I was still getting a true sense of the building, but only as it was now in its current state. The first thing I got was anger, but it was cold and remote. There was a gleeful cruelty that enjoyed causing suffering. Then pain, abrupt and sudden and overwhelming. The whole place was soaked in despair and agony, with more subtle traces of humiliation and shame. It was dark in there. It made my skin crawl. I ground my teeth and pressed further, looking for signs of life. I was vaguely beginning discern the different origins of the things I was sensing. The stairs led down to a large antechamber, I felt like it led off to a long hallway with smaller rooms off to either side. The big cold anger felt the most distinctive. The more I tried to focus on the other auras the harder it was to 'see' past that coldness. It was like trying to differentiate between shadows in periphery.

I rolled my neck, trying to loosen the stiff muscles there. I envisioned myself with more fluidity so I could slide around that giant iceberg of hate. I caught the trail of the one wanting to cause suffering, it was brighter and it made it all the more wrong for being so. And there, within the circle of that brightness was the pain and humiliation. Shame, regret, heart break. Hendricks. But there was more there too, someone else that had all the pain and humiliation, but also ...lust? and resignation. That was confusing. I pushed it aside. Two prisoners, two interrogators. I kept looking. There should be more, I knew from experience what the servitors felt like. I searched for the empty, numb places. The ones that could only be felt by the absence of what was inside it. One, in the antechamber, and another, ground level, possibly in the mammoth garages? I didn't think there were more, but it was hard to tell. I pulled my focus back in, coming back to myself. Night had fallen completely. I went back to Marcone.

He was damn near exactly where I left him, only he was leaning with one shoulder against a tree, perceptive eyes taking in everything. I dropped the veil at the tree line so I wouldn't spook him and catch a blade in my gut.

"Hey," I said quietly, "I'm back."

He grunted, I saw his eyes track to me and then back to the bunker. "Were you able to find anything out?"

"Yeah, it's not great, but it's doable." I broke it down for him. "Two interrogators, they're both some kind of semi-divine or lesser god, two prisoners, one is Hendricks. At least two more servitor personnel, but there could potentially be a lot more than that. They're really hard to sense because they're so _blank_. I think the best option in is to take the stairwell. It's not being watched, but there's a servitor in the antechamber at the bottom. As long as we don't make any noise we should be able to slip by. I can spell the door when we come in to block any light or sound and cover us with a veil. Getting past the interrogators will be trickier. They'll both be able to see right through my magic. And there's one more thing to consider," I said, getting down to the brass tax, "whoever they have in there with Hendricks- I didn't come here for them." Marcone eyed my sharply but I held up my hand to stop his question. "I'm not saying I'm willing to leave a mortal in the hands of the monsters. All I'm saying is that our deal was for me to find Hendricks and get you and him back to Chicago. So, assuming the person in there isn't a plant, there could be some tough choices on the trip back."

"What do you mean, a plant?" Marcone asked.

"You know, like, stick some poor schmuck in the cell with Hendricks and beat the hell out of the other guy so Hendricks feels like he has to cave in to save the other guy's life. Or at least develop some kind of mutual bond, like 'we're both doomed, so it doesn't matter if I let something slip that I would never tell the people breaking my fingers'." I shrugged. "I mean, that's how I'd do it."

I got that weird look from Marcone again.

"What?" I demanded.

"Do you often torture people?"

I scowled at him. "I do what I have to do, _John_. You think you're something better?"

He looked away first.

I got us into the building without a hitch, and sure enough there was a Turtleneck pacing up and down the long hallway, assault rifle slung across his back. We were wrapped up in several layers of spell work, the best I could manage without special foci. I led us further into the building, skirting past the guard. The first set of doors off the antechamber stood open revealing an elaborate barracks. That’s where the cold anger was coming from. And now that we were underground I could tell there were way more than the two servitors I had sensed earlier. There were some high class shielding spells at work in the barracks, but we weren't heading in that direction so we didn't stick around to look further. We stuck close to the wall, Marcone's hand on my shoulder keeping us connected for the veil. The room Hendricks was in was down at the end, the door was propped open several inches. As we approached we caught the conversation going on inside.

“ _He’s had enough, f-fucking sadist!_ ” A woman’s voice cried. “ _Leave him alone._ ”

Two people panting heavily. A cruel laugh. Rhythmic slap of skin on skin. Chains rattling .

“ _Is that right, Princess? Have you had enough? Maybe you’re ready to talk,_ ” the cruel voice purred, bright with a malicious joy.

A male groaned. Hendricks’ quiet baritone said, “ _S-stop. Don’t._ ”

I felt Marcone’s hand on my shoulder clench, felt him shift his center of balance, ready to bolt in there and throw the whole plan to shit. I caught him around the middle as he tried to move past me further down the hall. One arm around his shoulders the other at the small of his back in a tight bear hug, I pressed us up against the wall.

“Don’t be stupid,” I breathed. Marcone is a tall man, but I’m NBA tall and I had him by several inches. I barely had to lean down to whisper in his ear, keeping one eye on the guard at the other end of the hall. We were completely exposed to anyone with the ability to see through a veil, and if they heard us, there goes the magic, so to speak.

Marcone was vibrating with rage, his hands pushed at my chest trying to break out of my grip, but I have this neat Winter power up and I used it to keep him in place.

“You’re not going to save him from any extra pain,” I murmured, trying to reason with him. “You can’t go up against what’s in there. We have to wait it out. We wait for him to leave, then we slip in and grab Hendricks, and get gone, nobody the wiser. This is a rescue mission, not a revenge mission. That part comes later.”

Marcone shoved against my chest again. His ragged breath felt hot through my tee shirt. “Get off me, Dresden,” he hissed quietly. “I have to- I can’t just- Hesmybrother,” he gritted out, finally, hands fisting in my shirt.

I tensed and felt my eyes go wide. Brother? I couldn’t help but imagine if that was Thomas in there. I counted to five and took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Stay on mission.” I told him quietly. “You can’t help him if you get us all killed.”

The panting and slap of skin was speeding up. Someone was getting close to finishing.

“ _Tell me how many Einherjar he keeps and I’ll let you come too_ ,” the cruel voice panted. 

“ _Go t’hell_ ,” Hendricks gasped.

I lifted my hand to try and cover Marcone’s ears, block out some of this obscenity. He shouldn’t have to hear this. But he swatted my arm away. I guess he thought if Hendricks had to suffer through it, he did too. I knew what that was like.

“ _Suit yourself_ ,” he said, uncaring.

Marcone and I stood silent in the hallway while we listened to the interrogator climax. I didn’t dare let up my hold on him.

“ _Ahh,_ ” he said, chains rustling. A zipper went up. A sharp slap, Hendricks grunted.

“ _Why are you doing this? He doesn’t know anything_.” The woman pleaded.

“ _Of course he knows. Don’t you, Princess? He’s the underboss after all_.”

“ _He’s not even_ made _. He’s fucking Irish. You think you caught a big fish? All you got is a carp. He’s just a body guard._ ” She said.

Sound of a jar lid being unscrewed. Mason jar, I thought.

“ _He doesn’t need any more of that. He’s already drugged enough_ ,” she pleaded again.

“ _Hmm. We’ll see. Enough of this and he’ll be dying for me to fuck him again. He’ll tell me anything I want to know so long as I keep touching him_.” A pause, “ _Wont’ you, baby_?” He cooed mockingly. 

Sound of someone hocking a loogie.

A gut punch, easy to tell from the retching that followed.

“ _That’s enough!_ ” she cried

“ _You know what you have to do if you want me to leave him be.”_ He said in the air of a long standing argument.

 _“I. Don’t. Know.”_ She clipped.

“ _You were there when it was summoned. You saw the whole thing. All you have to do is tell me what you saw_.”

“ _And then you’ll let us go? Yeah, right_.”

“ _No, not leave. But I will let you die, and that’s just as valuable to you, isn’t it?_ ”

“ _Rot. In. Hell_.”

“ _Your little curses lose their potency when you’ve lived though the things I’ve seen.”_ He laughed. “ _Hell? You don’t know the half of it_.”

Chains clinked.

“ _That shit won’t work on me. You’ve alread_ -“

Struggling.

“ _Let’s try internal ingestion this time. You have such a high tolerance after all_.”

Choking, gurgling, glass shattered. Gasping.

“ _Fucking whore, you made me drop it_.”

A loud slap. She whimpered.

“ _Let’s see if you still feel the same way in a little bit. I bet you’ll be begging to get fucked again too_.”

A man-shaped thing in an ill-fitting grey suit came stalking out of the room. He had brown skin like river mud, bulbous and craggy. The slash of its mouth was disproportionate to his face, overly large. His dark eyes shone with hatred. I still held Marcone pinned to the wall, and neither of us breathed as the Fomor lord strode by us. I could have reached out and touched him he was so close. But he didn’t see us. His mind must have been occupied with something else other than looking for two men huddled under a veil in otherwise plain sight. As he walked by I caught a whiff of something that made my blood run cold. Vampire. Red Court. I held us in place until he disappeared into one of the closed doors near the antechamber. Then Marcone and I went to inspect the damage.


	6. A Twist of Fate

Marcone rushed to Hendricks’s side as soon as we got through the door. “Nate,” he breathed.

He was in bad shape. He’d been beaten. His body was a canvass of agonies.

“Don’t touch them without gloves,” I told Marcone quickly. “That’s Red Court venom they’ve been drugged with.” I recognized the signs now.

I took a moment to take in the horror. Hendricks and the mystery woman had been stripped naked and hung limply by chains from the ceiling. The venom had already drug both of them into a stupor.

I shrugged off my bag and pulled out a pair of nitrile gloves and passed them to Marcone.

Hendricks’s face looked like it took most of the abuse. One eye was swollen shut. It looked like a probable broken eye socket. Broken nose. His jaw looked crooked, probably dislocated. More bruises peppered his chest and abdomen. Cracked ribs, possibly. I didn’t want to, but I made myself look lower. His genitalia stood erect, but it was red and badly swollen. His thighs were slick with things I didn’t want to think about.

I pulled a clean handkerchief out of my bag from the emergency thaumaturgy kit along with my extra set of clothes. I set it down next to Marcone. “Hanky has a cleaning charm on it. Clothes will fit, they’re charmed too, and they’ll hold off the chill when we get to Winter,” I told him.

I waited for him to pull on the gloves I’d given him. “I’ll freeze these manacles and shatter the iron, you catch him when he falls, ok?”

Marcone nodded. His jaw was set so tight I thought he might break it. Hendricks started to rouse while we were getting him unchained.

“John?” He asked blearily. “Shouldn’t be here, its- ugghh,” he groaned as we lowered him to the ground. Definitely broken ribs, I thought, cataloguing injuries, doing the math of the wounded.

“Shuddup, Nate.” Marcone hissed, his Southie showing. “Really think I’d leave you?”

I turned my back to them to give them their privacy. Unfortunately, that made me confront the issue of the mystery woman. She was in just as bad of shape as Hendricks. Her bruises held more of a pattern to them. Each was a perfectly round circle set in straight lines, and her whole body was striped with them. There was a discernible focus around her neck, breasts and thighs. Octopus suckers, I realized with dawning horror.

“Hell’s freaking bells,” I breathed.

“I ain’t leaving her, John,” I heard Hendricks saying behind me. I ran a hand through my hair and faced Marcone. We shared a meaningful look. We’d already talked about this.

“I know, Nate,” he said, staring at me. “We won’t leave her, will we, Dresden?”

I sighed. “No, I guess we won’t,” I said reluctantly. Under my breath I continued, “I mean, all they can do here is torture her to death, but sure, let’s toss her to the Unseelie Court. That won’t end badly.”

I lightly kicked her bare foot with my boot. "Hey. Sleepin' Beauty, wake up." Her eyes fluttered open, pupils dilated so wide I couldn't even tell a color. I didn't feel any tug of a soul gaze. I couldn't tell if she was just too out of her mind for one to initiate or if she was something besides mortal. She smelled way too much like a vampire for my comfort. I couldn't tell you how I knew, but I knew it wasn't just the venom. When in doubt, I find the direct approach works best. I tapped her ankle again with my boot. I wasn't sure I wanted to physically touch her yet.

"Hey. Wakey-wakey." I leaned close and stared directly in her eyes. I know, reckless. "Anybody ho-"

The soul gaze caught me completely by surprise, which shouldn't be a surprise. Her eyes snapped into focus. I had time to think, _'chimera'_ beforeI felt myself get sucked into her multi-colored eyes.

I fell into darkness, but I wasn't alone. There were creatures out there that I couldn't see, circling, waiting their turn to have me, and they would have me, that was my purpose. But I would get something from them too. I knew how to listen to their whispers in the darkness, secrets and worse, I would find it. Information was my survival instinct. As long as I knew more than them, they couldn't kill me, couldn’t turn me. They could take my body, but they couldn't touch my mind.

I blinked several times shaking off the soul gaze. I still didn't know what to think. She was mortal, but she was tied in so deep with the Red Court that it had irrevocably marked her. She was already falling back into the grip of the venom. I shook her shoulder lightly. No aura of a practitioner fizzed between us, just vanilla mortal. "Hey. Stay with me, can't sleep yet," I told her. She blinked dully at me, maybe something like recognition in her now. I wondered briefly what she had seen in me. She didn’t seem affected by it.

"You gonna kill me too?" she asked thickly. She watched me with her mismatched eyes. They were a both pale brown, except for the left one, which was split on the vertical, a perfect half sphere of vibrant azure blue. 

"The depends," I told her honestly. "Where did the venom come from?"

"I tell you and then what?" her head lulled to one side, eyes going heavy lidded again.

"Then, if I like your answer, you get to choose if you want me to leave here _with_ you, or if you want to stay behind." _'To die_ ,' remained unsaid.

"If you don't like my answer?"

"Then you don't get a choice. You'll stay here."

"Might be better off with squidward," she reasoned. "I knew the last Knight. Wouldn't pick him over this lot."

"I'm not Lloyd Slate."

"No," she agreed. "You're something else."

I waited for her answer. Saw her eyes track behind me to Marcone and Hendricks.

"You came for the ginger? Gonna take him home?" She asked Marcone directly.

"Yes," I heard him reply.

She nodded and raised her eyes back to mine, resolute. "Sometimes one of the lower houses would sell their venom on the black market. It was considered shameful, anyone caught doing was executed. But it still happened. Easy money, and there was always a market. But it loses it's potency over time, exposure to light and air cause it to erode. This shit is weak. It's old. I can tell, because I keep shaking it off. Frog face is getting pissed. He said he was going to stick an IV in me and let squidward back in." Her eyes slid drunkenly towards the floor. "So, now you know what's gonna happen to me if I stay," she made a visible effort to lift her head back up. "Like my answer?" She asked defiantly.

I turned to Marcone. He'd gotten Hendricks dressed and on his feet. Marcone had one of Hendricks's meaty arms slung over his shoulder to holding him up.

Marcone stared passively at me, “I don’t believe she’s a plant,” he said.

"Nah. Leavin' her," Hendricks growled through his dislocated jaw.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Chivalry used to be _my_ shtick, you know." I turned back to chimera girl and started the process of breaking her out of the manacles. Her head fell back down as I worked, chin resting on her chest. I tried to kick as much of the broken Mason jar away from her feet as I could. She was going down hard, I didn't think I would get her to wake back up for awhile. She didn't even stir as I got her first wrist free.

I had just shrugged out of my duster and draped it over her shoulders, trying to fit her loose arm into the sleeve when the door swung open unexpectedly. My head snapped up to Marcone, he tried to go for one of his knives but with Hendricks's weight on him he was slower than he should have been. Turtleneck sans assault rifle, plus one Mason jar full of vampire spit strolled casually on into our rescue mission. I got the benefit of adrenaline enhanced clarity as I spun on my heel, pulling my sword from the scabbard on reflex. In one of those seconds that lasts an infinity, I calculated my next few steps, realizing immediately that if any sound came from this room it would raise an alarm klaxon. I took two long strides and swung the light blade before shock could even register on his face. Spell-wrought steel sliced neatly through his black knit sweater. His head fell from his shoulders at the same time the Mason jar slipped from his hand. One landed with a disturbingly meaty _thunk_ , I caught the other in the bend of my right ankle like a soccer ball. The door latch clicked closed. His headless body slumped forward and I caught it in my left arm, easing it silently to the ground. I set the Mason jar down and allowed myself to breathe. Time righted itself, and I rolled my neck. Too close. I hadn't even sensed anyone coming down the hall. That's the problem with the Turtlenecks, I thought, they just don't _feel_ like anything. I wiped the blade on the black sweater and re-sheathed my blade.

"I believe we've overstayed our welcome," I quipped to Marcone.

He grunted. "I had my doubts that you knew how to use that," he said. "How long have you been working with a sword?"

"Couple of months," I told him. "Luccio made it. It's not as impressive as her old Warden blades, but it's sharp as hell and can cut through veils if nothing else."

Chimera girl wavered where she was still tethered to the last manacle. I went over and wrapped one arm around her waist to steady her and captured her manacled wrist. A small effort of will super cooled the steel and I crushed it to shards easily. Once her other arm was free I helped her slip it into my duster and belt it around her. She slumped against me with almost as much dead weight as the Turtleneck. I hefted her up in a fireman’s carry and checked Marcone and Hendricks. They were good to go.

"Okay, this next part's a little dicey," I told him. “Whatever's on the other side of this place is going to be as equally well defended and as dark metaphysically speaking as this place is. Which gives it a pretty high percentage of falling in Winter. But- that's not a guarantee. I'm going to open a Way and shield as best I can. I would like to take the time to check it out alone first, but I think we’re pressing our luck now. Keeping us on this side is asking for trouble.” I shook my shield bracelet out and focused my thoughts, reached out and tore a hole between worlds. “Stay close,” I told him and stepped through.

It was another cavern, a noticeable trend. I snapped a shield into place as I looked around. Definitely Winter, I realized immediately. The only light filtered through from the Way I had opened and as soon as Marcone and Hendricks were through I quickly muttered the words to seal it back up. I took a few steps forward, crunching on something brittle underfoot. Please don’t be bones, I thought desperately. I took a moment and quested out with my senses. I didn’t have to look long.

“Knnniiiight,” yowled a familiar feline voice. “Whaat buiiisness have you heere?”

“Grimalkin!” I called out in recognition. I dropped my shield. Grimalkin was on my team, in a manner of speaking. A set of yellow feline eyes glowed brightly before us. Then another appeared. And another. And another still. “And friends,” I amended. “I have no business with the Malks,” I called out loudly, realizing we were technically intruding. “I’m returning these mortals to Chicago in accordance to my bound word. We’re just passing through. It’s only by coincidence that led me into this nest. Show us the way out of the cavern and we’ll leave without incident.”

“Nooo,” Grimalkin protested, “Weee will have innnccident.”

I sighed. Great. “State your quarrel,” I said resigned.

“Cait Sith.” Grimalkin said simply.

“Siiiith, Siiiith,” repeated more inhuman voices in the dimness. I felt Marcone and Hendricks shift nervously behind me. I knew where this was going. Cait Sith was the eldest Malk, their leader, and I had gotten him taken by the Enemy.

“I refuse to pay satisfaction on Sith,” I told the Malk nest, “because I refuse to believe he’s lost. He was taken by our Adversary, but he is too critical a pawn for them to destroy simply because his infection was discovered. I swear, by my power and rank, that I am doing everything at my disposal to find him and free him from their grip.”

A cacophonous rumble vibrated the cavern as multiple Malks growled their displeasure. Rocks shook loose and clattered to the cave floor. I felt my heart beating like a drum. I couldn’t fight a whole nest of Malks while babysitting three helpless mortals. I took a deep, steadying breath. I’ve always found that the best way to deal with things more dangerous than you are, is to show no fear and don’t back down.

“Take it or leave it, Grimalkin,” I growled back at them, “that’s the best you’re getting from me. I like Cait Sith. I’m not giving up on him just so you can take the title of Eldest Malk. Deal with your seniority issues on your own time. You’re wasting mine.” I let the authority of Winter ring in my voice, “Now. Show us the way out.”

A choir of hisses surrounded us, but once they died away a large yellow glowing pair of paw prints appeared and began leading away from us. I grinned smugly, I don’t usually like to pull rank, but I can’t deny it has its benefits from time to time.

“And have a care where you’re leading, one of my party is without shoes,” I called ahead, seeing in the light of the paw prints that it was, in fact, a covering of bones on the floor. “I would hate to have to call up fire just so he can see where to walk.” After that comment the paw prints landed on bare dirt. Winter fae _hate_ fire.

Grimalkin led us to the mouth of the cave. It was night outside, but I could see well enough by the light of moon. I turned back to Grimalkin once we were out.

“There’s a Fomor stronghold on the other side of that Way I opened. If anything tries to follow through, kill it.”

Grimalkin’s tail flicked once in the affirmative before he turned and disappeared back into the cavern. I scrubbed my chin and shifted chimera girl in my arms. She was still pretty much out of it. Hendricks was struggling to stay upright as well. He wasn’t going to make it much longer. Marcone was all but dragging him along by the time we made it out of the cave.

“Let’s rest here a minute. Should be safe enough,” I told Marcone.

He sighed gratefully and nodded, lowering Hendricks to the ground and setting his back to the cave wall. He settled beside Hendricks and I set chimera girl down on the other side of him. I should have got her name, but she wasn’t going to be waking up anytime soon for me to ask her for it.

Marcone was studying me. “You promised them to save their leader,” he acknowledged.

“It’s not a big deal,” I told him. “They wouldn’t have let us through if I hadn’t and it’s something that I’m doing anyway, so. Not a big deal.”

He seemed to accept that. I gestured to chimera girl. “If we can make it back to Chicago without anyone making a scene, I want you to take this girl in,” I told him. “I soul gazed her, she’s going to need a lot of help. Her whole identity is associated with the Red Court. I think she was used for some kind of femme fatale espionage shit. She’s totally lost now without them.”

“I’ll see to it,” he agreed. “What’s your plan if there _is_ a scene?”

I popped my jaw. “Then, I’ll have to Claim her,” I told him matter of factly. “An unclaimed mortal in Winter is anybody’s meat for the taking. And like I said before, I’m not so far gone that I’m willing to hand someone over to the monsters.”

“I see. What exactly does _that_ involve? Claiming?”

“It means,” I explained, “she would belong to me. My prisoner. My ward. It’s the same thing, basically. It- it’s not something that can be undone,” I said. “My mother was Claimed by the Leananshe. That’s part of why she-” I cut myself off. “it’s irrevocable, that’s all.”

Marcone arched an eyebrow. Stars, I hated all his non-verbals.

I rolled my shoulders.

“Any-way,” I drawled, changing the subject. “The good news is that I know where we are. We’re not too far from Arctis Tor. This cave is on the far side of the mountains from there. The Malks like to stay close to the Queen,” I explained. “There’s a fresh spring just down the hill. I can whistle up a couple of fairie mounts and get us some water before we head back out. The ride from here to Chicago should take about two hours.”

Marcone simply nodded. “Good. These two will need medical attention as soon as possible.”

I studied Marcone. He had settled down next to Hendricks, and hadn’t taken his hands off of him since being reunited in the torture room. Hendricks’s head lulled to the side and rested on Marcone’s shoulder. Brothers. I wondered how that worked. Couldn’t be biological. Foster maybe? Adopted? Maybe he meant brothers in arms. I realized Marcone was watching my face. Stupid face. I’ll never be a poker player.

“Go ahead and ask,” Marcone said quietly.

“Uh,” I said, not sure if I was being rude, “it’s obviously personal, you don’t owe me any explanation.”

Marcone deadpanned at me. “You told me about _your_ brother,” he stated.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “I guess I did.” I shrugged. To hell with it. I was curious and he was offering. “I was just thinking you’re obviously not biologically related. So, I was wondering how that worked.”

Marcone was silent for a minute, like he was trying to decide what to say. After a moment he asked, “Do you know very much about mob families?”

I shrugged and sat down. “I’ve seen the Godfather a bunch of times.”

He smirked at me. “That explains a lot, actually.” He sighed and licked his lips. “It’s a long story. You have to understand how important family is in the mob. Its- its everything. _La Famiglia_.” He shrugged as if that explained it. “Nathan’s father was in the Irish Mob,” he explained, “they had a sort of alliance with the Outfit in the 60’s and 70’s. Our families lived in the same apartment building in South Shore when we were kids. I’ve known him my entire life. We played together when we were kids. We went to school together. We were in most of the same classes. Rode the same bus. Then, in the 80’s, the Irish and the Gambino family went to war with each other in New York. My father was a _caporegime_ for Vargassi at the time, but he was also cousins with the underboss for Gambino, a man named John Dellacroce.”

Marcone paused, “Stop me if I need to explain any of this in more detail. It can get very convoluted to an outsider.”

I scoffed. “I’ve been a P.I. since I was 20, John. I promise I can keep up,” He shrugged and continued.

“So, Dellacroce wanted to make a good impression with Gambino since he was new to the job. He vowed to take down as many Irish as he could, all over the county, not just New York. It was a vendetta to him. And at this time it was pretty well known that Nate’s father ran guns for the Irish. Nate’s dad had a lot of connections all over the Eastern half of the country. He was Bugs Morgan’s 2nd cousin or something so he was always getting looked at. Dellacroce knew that my dad worked with him pretty regularly, and when everyone went to the mattresses, Dellacroce gave the order for my dad to take out Nate’s dad. And Vargassi backed him, because he was a spineless, _cazzo di merda_.”

I laughed, I couldn’t help it. “He was a _what_ , now?” I was totally engrossed in Marcone’s story, but he was usually so reserved, never using five words when three would be just as efficient. And when he did speak it was with such a cool authoritative voice and no discernible accent, that hearing his vernacular slip threw me. It was like talking about his past was bringing out his Italian and South Chicago heritage. I got the feeling it wasn’t intentional, and it wasn’t a side of himself he showed to anyone. I liked his accent.

He waved his hand in the way bilingual people do when they’re trying to mesh a single idea in two languages. “A piece of shit,” he said.

“Oh, sure.” I nodded for him to go on. There was so much about this man I didn’t know. And here he was, choosing to tell me something about his past that probably no one else besides Hendricks knew about. I wasn’t sure how to feel. But I knew I wanted to know more. He gave me a sad smirk and continued.

“So my dad did what he had to do. He went to their apartment and told Nate to go outside and play with me because he needed to talk business with his father. He’d had a lawyer write up some adoption papers on Nate and my dad made his parents sign them before he killed them so Nate wouldn’t end up in a state home. And then he came and told us that Nathan was going to be living with us from now on. So that’s how come he’s my brother,” Marcone concluded.

I realized my mouth was hanging open in shock so I closed it. “Wow,” I said after awhile. “That’s- that’s almost as crazy and fucked up as me and Thomas. We could set up a points system,” I suggested, “try and figure out who gets the worst childhood trophy.” When I’m nervous I make jokes. It’s a character flaw, I know.

Marcone’s lip twitched up at the corner. “If you feel like sharing,” he coaxed. “Your paper trail before Chicago is… sparse.”

“Oh wooow,” I teased, “you _really_ _do_ have a dossier on me, you stalker.”

He broke out into a full Cheshire smile. “I’m can neither confirm nor deny any such document.”

I laughed, “Oh yeah, you probably have a whole drawer in your filing cabinet labeled “Harry Dresden.”

“The label reads, ‘P.I.M.A.’,” he corrected.

“P.I.M.A.,” I repeated, trying to figure out the acronym. It hit me suddenly and I laughed harder. “Pain in my ass?” I guessed. He laughed right along with me. It was a good sound.

“Ok, ok, fair enough,” I said once we quieted down. I liked how easy it was to talk to Marcone this way, open and unguarded. It had been a long time since I had been this unguarded too. I was smiling. When I realized it, I stopped immediately.

“Better get going soon,” I said, abruptly. “We don’t want to stay too long in one place here.” I got up and went off in search of the spring.


	7. In Which Harry Finally Catches A Clue

The cave mouth was set high up on the slope facing towards Arctis Tor. I couldn’t see it from where I was, but I could feel the pull. I shivered. That was some more shit that I purposely ignored as often and strongly as possible. I shoved it to the back of my mind as I slipped down the hill side. The cold little stream was exactly where I remembered it, cutting its way through the stone and meandering off to the barren valley below. It was frigid here, for certain values of frigid, (it certainly didn’t affect _me_ at all,) but the fast flow of the water kept it from freezing. I stuck two fingers in my mouth and trilled out a whistle that Ebenezer had taught me a lifetime ago. My faerie beast could hear my call anywhere in Winter and would undoubtedly show up with the mare that he had taken up with him. They were practically inseparable. Even in the harshness of Winter, love still thrives. For certain values of love, I mused.

I knelt at the stream and drank my fill while I waited on my mount and thought about John Marcone. It had been a long running tease in my circle of friends that Marcone _wanted_ me, wanted me. But then, we had always had an oddly intimate relationship. I had just chalked it up to him tricking me into a soul gaze at that first encounter. Now I wasn’t so sure. What does it mean when a man is equally ready to kiss or kill you? Not that I was interested in either of those things. I like girls, I told myself firmly. I’ve never been interested in men despite what anyone wants to gossip about. Or, I thought, how relentless and uncomfortable the gossip had gotten over the years. And it had started _years_ ago. First with rumors about me and Michael, then me and Thomas, me and Butters, me and Will, Stars, what male figure in my life hadn’t been a focus of my alleged sex life? Carlos? No, wait. Him too. I sighed. It just didn’t make any sense to me. I’ve never been the kind of person to speculate on other people’s bedroom activities so when people do it to me it just makes zero sense.

My romantic partners were few and far between. People that got close to me had a bad habit of getting hurt. My life just isn’t conducive to normal things like dating. I shook my head trying to clear it of unwelcome thoughts. “Just get him back to Chicago and be done with it,” I muttered to myself. I got my favors, I got my bond. I didn’t want anything else from John Marcone, I told myself again.

I looked up when I heard the click clack of hoof beats coming up the hill. My mount was an inky black color that always reminded me of looking down into the water of Lake Michigan at nighttime. His eyes burned like coals and he had a splash of white between his eyes that make his long face look like it was covered in ash.

“Ignis,” I said fondly and stroked his horsey flank. I waved a hand in summoning and muttered a bit of faux Latin making his saddle and tack appear. I pulled off an empty canteen from the saddle. “Where’s your Lady?” I asked him, looking around. The great beast pawed the frozen ground and snorted, a burst of fog came up from his nostrils.

“Oh, it’s like that, huh?” I had no idea what he meant, but he clearly understood _me_ most of the time so I continued to talk to him as if we were having a two-sided conversation. “Well, I need her too, today, so go make up and tell her to come on.”

He nickered and nosed my hand. “I got nothing on me, guy,” I told him. “You want treats, come back with the Missus and meet me at the Malk nest at the top of this hill.” He snorted again, flicked his ears in irritation and click clacked off down the hill again. I filled the canteen with icy water from the stream and went back up to check on my extra appendages.

The kids I was babysitting for were still sleeping the sleep of the vampire whammied. John sat watch alert between them, casually flicking open and closed a fancy looking pocket knife with an ivory handle. He watched my approach to the mouth of the cave.

“Any trouble?” I asked him quietly when I reached him.

He shook his head no and I passed him the canteen.

He paused with the canteen at his grinning mouth. “If I drink this, it’s not going to trap me in fairyland for half the year, is it?”

I rolled my eyes. “Har har. That was Persephone and the pomegranate seeds, _you’ll_ be fine. This isn’t _his_ domain.” Ever since I had met the guy, I don’t like saying Hades's name out loud. Meeting an actual Greek God really puts things into perspective.

“Only if you’re sure,” he said before tilting his back to drink. I realized I was watching him swallow and quickly looked away. I sighed. Get it together, Harry, I told myself.

John shook Hendricks into some kind of partial alertness, enough that he was able to take a few drinks of the water. I helped him with chimera-girl. She started awake and raised her arms in a drunken defense, only semi-coherent. “Hey! Easy,” I soothed. “It’s just water,” I said sloshing the canteen in front of her face. I took a drink to show her it wasn’t drugged. “See?” I held it out to her, urging her to drink. She stared at me for several seconds before tentatively bringing it her mouth. I was helping her hold the canteen steady when John leapt to his feet, pulling an impressively long blade out of a heretofore hidden back sheath.

“Dresden,” he said authoritatively, “trouble.”

I turned in time to see Hendricks’s eyes grow large and the canteen slip from chimera-girl’s hand. And to also see the pair of unicorns trotting up the hill to the mouth of the cave. Iridescent horns glittering in the moonlight. 

Oh, good,” I said. “I was wondering what was taking so long.” I grabbed a small repurposed coffee can out of my bag and went out to meet Ignis and his Missus.

“See you two made up,” I said to the stallion, ruffling his long mane. His ears flicked, but his ember eyes watched Marcone, correctly identifying him for the threat that he was. 

“Put your knife away, John, you’re making him nervous,” I said casually over my shoulder.

“Oh. Wouldn’t want that,” he replied just as casually, but I could tell it was front.

I glanced at him, grinning. “Did I forget to mention this part?” I asked, my face a mask of innocence.

He sheathed the long knife. I wondered again how many knives he had on. I hadn’t noticed that one at all when I had him pinned in the Fomor bunker.

“Not entirely. I do recall you mentioned there would be a ride, although thinking on it now I don’t think you ever explicitly stated it would be on _horses_ , so that should have been a clue.”

I stroked Ignis’s flank again. “We’ll teach him, yet,” I muttered to my steed. I winked at John. “Well, come say hello already. You’ll make him self-conscious if you keep staring.”

“Is it- are they tame?” he asked, approaching apprehensively. Behind him, Hendricks wobbled to his feet, placing himself between the unicorns and chimera-girl.

I snorted. “Hell, no. Gotta be a virgin to tame a unicorn, John,” I said grinning, “But he’s tolerant enough.”

John approached us cautiously and Ignis kept him in sight the whole time.

“Here,” I said, “stand in front where he can see you.” I shifted John around, “and hold out your hand so he can smell you. He’ll let you know when you can get closer. You just have to watch for it.”

John held out his hand to be inspected. “You seem to know a lot about equine behavior,” he stated.

I shrugged. “Spent a few years on a farm when I was younger. Sort of stuck with me.”

I popped the lid off the small coffee can that I kept my special horsey treats in. I have a long history of bribing the fae with food.

I handed an oat and apple biscuit over to John, he handed it off to the stallion, correctly keeping his palm flat.

“His name’s Ignis,” I told him. “And this one,” I said, as the Missus took interest finally, now that the food was out, “is his Lady friend. I’ve just been calling her the Missus.” I held out a treat to her and she ate it up greedily. I stroked her muzzle and waited for her to signal that she was ok with me. When she turned her smoky eyes to Ignis and huffed a breath at me, I knew we were cool again. Women. Whaddyagonnado, I thought. I summoned a saddle and tack for her as well and swished her tail at the sudden apparatus.

“I know, I know,” I shushed her, “it’s just for a little while.” She whinnied and nuzzled the coffee can in my hand. “Yep,” I drawled, “bribery through food, you’re all the same.”

I caught John’s attention. “Come over here and let her get used to you.” I directed him. “You and Hendricks will be with Missus here and I’ll take chimera-girl on Ignis.” I passed the coffee can over to him. “Lesser Fae Bribery 101,” told him as he handed the mare another treat with an open palm, “they _love_ mortal food. But, if they accept it from you, it creates an obligation that they’re instinctually driven to pay off.”

“I see,” he murmured, clearly still in awe of the two faerie beasts. He stroked a hand down her iridescent withers.

“How did you come by such creatures?” he asked me suddenly. 

“Birthday present,” I answered.

He blinked. That wasn’t the answer he had been expecting.

I grinned again. “No, seriously. Ignis was a birthday present from my godmother. But, gifts are always double sided with the fae, so I had to give her something equally valuable.”

“What could be as valuable as a unicorn?” he asked wondrously.

I caught his gaze and felt the quivering connection between us again. The bond. “My time,” I answered seriously. “I started spending my free time with her.” He looked puzzled and I shrugged. “I’ve always had a pretty complicated relationship with Lea. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

"Ah. Complicated relationships," John said, eying me strangely, "Those are certainly irritating."

I harrumphed in acknowledgment, backtracking out of that conversation quickly.

I left John to get acquainted with his faerie steed and went back to my two inebriated and abused traveling companions. They had done pretty well so far, all things considered, but I realized that unicorns might be pushing the boundaries of sanity for a vanilla mortal.

"Okay, huddle up team," I said as I approached them. Hendricks scowled. He hated when I made linebacker jokes at his expense. But, the best way to get back to normal, was to keep acting normal.

"Yes, they are actually unicorns," I told them. I'm pretty sure Hendricks muttered “No shit,” under his breath, "But, for now let's just think of them as highly intelligent horses. The plan is that you," I pointed at Hendricks, "will double up with John, and you," I pointed at chimera-girl, "will ride with me." They both nodded. I knelt down and unstrapped my extra knives off my calves, passing them out. "I'm not expecting any trouble, so these are more for your own peace of mind. After..." I trailed off and dropped my eyes, "Well, all that," I said vaguely. "I figure you'd both feel better with something sharp and pointy." Chimera-girl clutched hers to her chest like a lifeline.

Hendricks professionally pulled the blade out to check what he was working with, frowned slightly and asked, "What is this?"

"Pure cold iron," I told him smugly. "It's kind of like contraband around here, so don't make a production out of it." He nodded appreciatively and slipped it into the waistband of his jeans.

"That one," I said, catching chimera-girl's eyes, "is obsidian. It's best for cutting through glamours and other physic bullshit, but it's sharp enough to do real damage if it comes to it."

"Surprised you're trusting me with a weapon," she said quietly.

I eyed her seriously. "Yeah, I am. Trusting you, that is," I watched her face, looking for a sign of acknowledgment. She looked away. Yep, there it was. She knew. "I'm glad you realize what's at stake here. I already asked the Baron to take you in if we make it back to Chicago without incident. He's a lot better at that stuff than I am," I admitted. "I guess you know what happens in the alternative version."

She nodded, eyes remote.

I could literally feel Hendricks' s sub audible growl. "You threatening her, Dresden?"

I shook my head. "No threats, Cujo. Back off. Just making sure we're all on the same page here. She's not getting thrown to the wolves, that's all you need to be concerned with. And," I said, before he could come up with the prerequisite chivalrous come-back, "We're not going to waste any more time standing around like a free meal. It's time to go."

I held out my hand and helped chimera-girl to her unsteady feet. 

Getting my motley crew saddled was a task unto itself. Everybody thinks riding a horse is easy- until it comes time to do it.

"So, do you know how to ride or do you want a quick break down?" I asked John. "You won't have to lead her much," I continued, "she'll follow Ignis on her own, and we'll be going slow. Mostly you'll just be making sure Cujo doesn't fall off and catch a broken neck on the way down."

"I believe I can handle it," John said coldly.

I smirked. "Alright cowboy, saddle up," I said as I knelt down by the stirrups and patted my knee, intending to give him a step up. This was not an innuendo. Unicorns are huge. I thought he might need a leg up. Anyone who tells you differently is lying.

John... immediately went to innuendo, if the raw hunger in eyes was any indication. I gulped. oops.

I pointed sheepishly to the faerie mount. "The horse, John."

He stared me down as he got one foot in the stirrup and swung himself up on the huge beast, graceful as you please.

"Alright," I muttered. " _Somebody's_ a show-off." He must have heard me, because I caught him chuckling quietly.

Hendricks was by far the most difficult to get mounted. Between his size and his injuries it, took me giving him the leg up, while John helped position his leg and pulled him up. Between the three of us, we got him mounted. He was looking pretty ill. I suspected the more pleasant effects of the venom were wearing off him, leaving him nauseous and infinitely more aware of his physical injuries.

"Hey," I said softly to John, I wasn't sure Hendricks was tracking much after climbing up on a giant unicorn with cracked ribs and who even knew what all else, "If he starts to get sick or needs to stop, try and give me a heads up first. Not every where we're going to be going through will be a safe place to stop, especially with him being..." I gestured at him.

"Easy prey," John supplied.

I nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Trust me when I say this, Harry, I don't intend to take any further chances with his safety."

I believed him.

We set off as soon as I got my rider situated. It was _damned_ awkward and uncomfortable being that she had to go side saddle across my lap, dressed as she was in only my leather duster. It fell about knee-length on her. I knew the leather would keep some of the chill of Winter off her, but her feet would be freezing soon enough. Wasn't much I could do about that. I hadn't anticipated needing to outfit two naked people for a trip through Winter. Let alone carrying one in my lap. This is a sexual assault victim, I reminded myself as I got her situated. So, so, _very_ awkward.

I got us set out at a steady pace. John was doing remarkably well, I noted. He had the air of confidence and authority needed to command these kinds of animals. We reached the barren valley floor and turned our backs to the mountain rage, crunching over the frost covered landscape. I was leading us to one of the safer paths, avoiding the snow trolls, fetches, hobs, and other creatures of Winter as best I could. We traveled quietly and alert. Well, John and I were alert. Chimera-girl had quickly buried her face against my chest at the first winter wind that whipped against us. It didn’t take much longer after that for her to lull back into unconsciousness. Even in her sleep she kept a firm grip on that obsidian knife, still clutched protectively to her heart. I kept her pulled tight against me lest she slip off. Beside me, John had an equally protective grip on Hendricks. I kept watch on them in my periphery. Every so often Hendricks’s chin would slump down to his chest and John would shake his shoulder or say something low and urgent in his ear. I did my best not to eavesdrop, but I still caught most of what was said. “Almost home… just a little farther… stay with me, Nate.”

I kept my senses open for trouble and thought about Thomas again. I don’t think he ever did really get over what the skinwalker did to him. I hoped Hendricks would be okay. 

I brought us out of the valley at a trail head that meandered around a frozen forest. A ruined castle, grown over by the woods could be seen though the naked trees. My least favorite denizen of Winter made his home over there, the Redcap.

"Danger zone," I told John quietly and pointed it out to him. I watched his eyes sweep the woods as he nodded in acknowledgement. We kept going, but the skin on the back of my neck began to crawl. I couldn't tell if it was anxiety or if we were being followed after that.

The trail eventually met up with a narrow paved road. It was one of the safeguarded paths through Winter used pretty frequently by Wardens during the Red War, but less so now. There just weren't that many Wardens left alive to travel it. I let John know that we were in the clear for the most part. My rider was shivering against me.

"Stop and let me help you get her feet up," John said. "Her toes are turning blue, she'll get frostbite soon."

He sidled up next to me and began directing. "Push her left leg up, no _other_ left, there. Yes, Like that, and pin her foot under your thigh," I did it, "now take her other leg and tuck it up under, yes there," he pointed and directed me until I had her contorted into an extremely interesting pretzel shape with one arm clinging around my shoulder for balance.

"Stars and _stones_ , John," I said exasperated as he had me trying to lean down and tuck the edges of the duster up under her, "you've got me wadding her up like an egg." She was completely out of it, mumbling incoherent protests through chattering teeth.

"Better to be mildly discomforted than sustain frost bite, wouldn't you say?" he asked, chidingly. I felt scolded. I hadn't realized she was getting so cold. I scowled and said as much.

John shrugged. "You've had your mind occupied on watching our backs. And by the time I noticed, it wasn't safe to stop." He looked at me with that _something_ that I couldn't pinpoint and I felt like he was going to say something more, but he just frowned slightly and spurred his mare forward again, conversation clearly over.

We were getting close to the Waypoint to Chicago. I could feel the energies shifting as we approached the mortal realm. "Probably about another 30 minutes to go," I told John.

"Thank God," he sighed, "I feel like I haven't eat in _days_ all of the sudden."

I bit my lip. "Ooh, right. Whoops." I frowned sheepishly, "That's probably my fault. I forgot to remind us to eat."

John scoffed at that. "I hardly need to be reminded to eat, Harry. And it's not as if we've had much down time anyway."

"Well," I hedged, "time is kinda funny on this side. We probably _have_ been gone a few days. Two or three, I'd say. We're getting closer to the mortal realm, so your body's recognizing that it hasn't actually eaten." I ran a hand through my hair. "I should have remembered that part," I muttered.

John looked at me sharply. "Three days?"

I yawned, and _then_ realized I was exhausted. "Yeah, probably. Never know for sure until you're back on the other side, but based on how many ways we took and how long we stayed in deep Winter, yeah. Probably close to three days." I scrubbed a hand over my face and stifled another yawn. “Everything’s going to start catching up to us now. The closer we get to the mortal world the more the weight of reality will set in. Hunger, sleep exhaustion, injuries, it’s all going to come crashing back at us."

He grunted. “Fantastic,” he muttered, “Three days with only Sigrun and Demeter in charge. That went so well last time.” He shook his head in frustration. I didn’t know what to say to that so I just left it.

We fell back into a companionable silence, punctuated only by the hoof beats of our faerie mounts or the occasional pained groans of our passengers. I had the feeling that John was watching me out of the corner of his eyes, or maybe that was me watching him. Hard to say, really. It felt like an elephant had joined our group. I should say something, I thought. We were about to be back in Chicago and John would- _no_ , I mentally corrected myself, _not_ _John_ , the Baron Marcone. Stars, when had I stopped thinking of him as Marcone? I sighed, frustrated, and rolled my stiff shoulders. _Baron Marcone_ would be whisked off by his people and we would go back to being...what? Frenenemies? More than acquaintances, less than allies? I didn't want to leave things so undetermined between us. Between the banter, well, ok I should probably admit it at this point, _flirting_ , and the oath bond, and the mutual agreement of honesty, and the shared secrets of our pasts…shit this was becoming _something_. But, I could feel the Waypoint up ahead. I was running out of time. Well, I thought, now or never. I dug up my courage to ask him where we stood with each other. "John, I wanted to ask you something."

He smiled in the way that actually made it up to his eyes. "Alright, this ought to be good."

"Before we get back to Chicago, I just wanted to know where we-"

"Harry!" a familiar female voice called out from right behind us.

I jumped involuntarily and felt my whole body quiver like a plucked string. My eyes were on John's and I felt them widen in surprise as we turned in time to the newcomer. She was standing in front of a quickly vanishing portal. He white blonde hair was expertly drawn up into a severe twist at the nape of her neck and her dark blue pantsuit made her look like Mab 2.0.

"There you are!" Molly said, eyes passing briefly over Marcone and Hendricks, "I've been looking all over for you. What's going on here?"

Oh shit. I inclined my head respectfully to her as thought very carefully about what I was going to say. Molly had taken to her role as Winter Lady like a duck takes to water. I wouldn't get any leniency on Winter Law from her.

"Lady Molly, no offense, but you haven't said a word to me in months. Not sure why you're looking for me so urgently _now_."

She narrowed her eyes. "I heard an unpleasant rumor. That you stole prisoners from the Fomor and brought them across into Winter. And now here you are." She coldly eyed Marcone and Hendricks before pinning me with her piercing blue gaze. "Is that true?"

I couldn't lie to her. As in, physically could not lie. I prayed she accepted my answer and didn't press. "I was contracted personally by the Baron to find and retrieve something that had been stolen from _him_ , in fact. I didn't feel it was necessary to inform the Court since it was a personal transaction. Our bargain ends once he and his are returned to Chicago. Winter need not be involved at all."

"You involved Winter when you instructed Grimalkin to cover your tracks, Harry." She said blandly. "The Fomor Lord attempted to follow you. Two malks died fighting it before it retreated."

I fought very hard not to roll my eyes. I ended up leaning my head back and looking beseechingly at the sky. "What a shame. I will make sure they're compensated accordingly." I said, totally indifferent.

"That's not the issue," she said levelly. 

I grimaced. "Please don't press this," I asked her softly.

She stood unmoved. "If my Knight is found to be in possession of stolen goods, it would be an invitation for the Fomor to renew hostilities again. You of _all_ people, know how high the cost of this armistice was."

I did know. I remembered the bodies littering the ground. Blood so thick on the asphalt you couldn't walk without slipping. Karin. I looked away, ashamed. I was still trying to figure out how to account for my extra plus one.

John, bless his heart, tried to save me from having to half-truth my way around chimera-girl's presence. "Wizard Dresden is not in possession of any stolen goods." He explained, "As he said, I did approach him to locate and retrieve that which was taken from me. I also commanded him to liberate the female. I am the one in possession of stolen property, not him. Once we are back in Chicago I will prepare an _appropriate_ weregild to the slighted party." His smile was malicious as he emphasized appropriate.

"I see," Molly said, considering. "Well, in that case..." she trailed off. I thought we might be in the clear. I felt myself getting hopeful. "Harry, you will of course, make sure the Baron and his rightful property make it back to his territory." She continued, and my stomach fell. "The girl, however, will need to be Claimed. You may have taken her at the Baron's behest, and it is true that would clear you from any retaliation from the Fomor, but the Baron has no authority in Winter. He cannot lay a Claim on her outside his territory, and now that she's here, she is essentially an unclaimed mortal. And you, an agent of Winter, brought her here. What were you thinking, Harry?” Her question was more than a question and I found myself responding to the compulsion before I could stop myself. 

“I thought I could get her to Chicago without anyone realizing it.” The words spilled out of my mouth unbidden. I growled and popped my jaw. I hated that shit.

Molly shook her head in disappointment. “I'll make sure Mab knows to expect you at Arctis Tor for the ceremony. You’ll forgive me for not staying to watch.”

"No," I groaned, "Molly, wait." But she had already turned and cut a way back to where ever it was she had come from. She stopped, though, when she heard me. She didn't turn around, but she stopped.

"It's the Law, Harry. I'm bound to obey it. As are you. I'm sorry," she said, and disappeared through the way.

"Fuck!" I screamed in frustration. The girl in my arms flinched in on herself and whimpered, responding to my outburst even in her incoherent state. I wanted to shove her off me, rip open a way and toss her in. I wanted to break things and set the world on fire. My hands closed into fists and I pressed them to my eyes, trying to control myself. I ground my teeth together and focused on just breathing. I counted to five, then to ten. I didn't feel any better. I hated myself for being talked into bringing the girl along. So stupid to think we could get out of Winter unnoticed. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She would have been better off dying in that- I stopped myself from going down that road. I cracked my neck and reminded myself that I had given her a choice. She chose to be here, she knew the consequences. This was _not_ my fault. I took a deep breath, and then another. Then, slowly, I dropped my hands to my sides. John had come up close to me and his hand was stretched out as if he wanted to touch me.

"Harry," he said gently, "This is still a win. We got her out of that dungeon. Isn't it better to be alive and whole, even if the price is allegiance? She thinks so, or she wouldn't have chose to come with us."

"I know," I said resigned. "I knew it was a possibility. But, then things were going so smooth and we're literally _right here_." I sighed and scrubbed my face. "Tell Cujo I'll make sure she's taken care of." He promised he would. I trotted Ignis over to the waypoint, (God we were less than fifty feet away, had Molly been waiting for us to arrive?) and made a slicing motion in the air with a muttered, "apparturum." I caught a whiff of nighttime Chicago air as a gust pushed out of the portal. Home, I thought bitterly.

John slid gracefully off the mare and pulled Hendricks's limp body along with him. He got the larger man supported and shuffled over to the portal. He stopped right before they stepped through and turned to look at me. "Thank you," He twitched the shoulder he had Hendricks's weight supported on. "For finding him, and getting him out of there."

I grunted. "Yeah.” In retrospect, this is when I should have asked him where we stood with each other, but I’m a chicken shit and all I said was, “Get him some help. You know, a professional. That kind of thing... it eats at you." A look crossed his face and I thought he was going to say something else, but he just nodded, and took his brother home.

I sighed and watched the portal close. I didn't want to go back, but I knew I had to. There was a Claiming to attend. I wrapped my arm protectively around the girl on my lap and turned back towards the heart of Winter.

For me, getting _to_ Winter was always easier than getting away. I spurred Ignis to gallop and cut across the nevernever to see the Queen of the Wicked Faeries. A snow storm kicked up as we approached the mountains. I used every short cut and way that I came across to whittle the trip down. We still had to stop twice so chimera-girl could vomit. She was burning off the venom and it was leaving her nauseous and weak. She trembled so violently in my arms at times that I thought she was having a seizure. I needed to get her out of the cold, and fast. We rode in silence. If I had any comforting words I would have said them, but I didn't. I was taking her to be Claimed. I felt like puking too.


	8. The Claiming

I felt the pull of Arctis Tor long before the formidable spire and the black ice of the fortress walls appeared out of the snow storm. My Queen was waiting for me. I urged Ignis faster. He was a magnificent creature. Huge and strong, made for running. His hooves crushed over the bone yard and we went straight through the glamoured hedge maze up to the portcullis. The gate was already pulled up for my arrival. The courtyard was empty, as it typically was when the Queen wasn't playing host to some ball or gala. I led Ignis straight up to the inside gate before dismounting. The heavy carved doors swung open revealing the Queen's handmaid. My godmother stood waiting for me, dressed in her favorite color of glacial green. Her red hair curled like a bloody halo around her.

"Godson!" she exclaimed cheerfully.

I scowled at Lea as my passenger and I dismounted. I helped the chimera-girl to stand. I asked her quietly if she could walk and nodded, eyeing Lea warily. I kept my arm around waist in support. Her eyes were open, but she had a glazed look and she shivered violently in my arms. I gave Ignis a light swat on his haunches and his saddle and tack vanished. He snorted a cloud of fog up at me and trotted off, I assumed to go do whatever faerie beasts do when they aren’t hauling gangly wizards and their ilk all across Winter and back. 

"You really stuck me in it this time, Lea." I accused her, stalking slowly inside.

She smiled at me beatifically. "But you got your man, didn't you? And even an extra." She stroked one red lacquered nail down the girl's cheek. Her two-toned eyes went wide as she stared at Lea. She was still clutching my obsidian knife and she snarled soundlessly and unsheathed the blade, pressing herself, if possible, even closer to me.

"What an interesting catch you've snagged," Lea said conversationally as she led us through the fortress. "She's such a broken thing, right now. Give her to me, my sweet, I can heal her wounds and give her such _peace_ as she has never imagined. You need not burden yourself with such a needy dependent. Not when you've finally reached a place in your chaotic life when you're finally free of so many mortal stresses." 

Lea's tone worried me. She was a master of politicking in the Winter court, she'd been at it for centuries. "You're coming on a little strong there, Lea,” I told her. She didn’t look abashed.

“I only want what’s best for you, godson,” she purred at me, but her hungry eyes were all for the chimera-girl in my arms. She was walking mostly on her own, but she had managed to stumble as far away from my godmother as she could get, I didn’t think it was a conscious decision. My godmother is scary.

“You recognized her,” I realized suddenly, “When you saw her eyes, you recognized her.”

She twitched her shoulder non-commensally.

Lea had led me to the Queen’s main reception chamber. We stood talking for a moment outside the large crystalline room where she typically held court. My boots had been echoing loudly through the icy halls but when I suddenly stopped at the door, the silence was louder.

“Lea, tell me now, before we see the Queen, is there anything about this girl that will endanger me or mine? On your oath to my mother that you would protect me, tell me the truth.”

It may have been a little rude to talk about her as if she wasn’t there, but I honestly didn’t know how much was tracking with her. She was shivering and holding on to my arm like it was the only thing keeping her up.

Lea sighed in the air of the long suffering. “You put me in bind, child. This girl will bring danger down on you simply by existing. I recognize her as a courtier of the Reds. She will have enemies to rival even yours.”

“But?” I asked. There was always a ‘but’.

Lea frowned. “ _However_ , the knowledge she surely possesses could be an invaluable asset. She would not have lasted so long with the Reds if she wasn’t good at gathering intelligence on their enemies. One of their favorite intelligence gathering techniques was to offer a seemingly innocuous mortal courtier such as herself to their enemies and allies and have her bring back as much information as she could gather.”

I nodded. “I soul gazed her, that seems to fit with what I saw in her. They basically used her like a whore _cum_ spy.” I glanced down at the girl; she didn’t meet my eyes so I returned my attention to my godmother and regarded her seriously. “I’m going to go in here and Claim her for myself, even if it does bring a whole host of new enemies down on me. It doesn’t matter to me who she was before. She human, I’m not giving her to the court so it’ll be more convenient for me and I’m not turning her over to you to turn into one of your hounds.” I ran a hand through my hair when Lea scowled at me.

“If you were any more like your mother…” Lea said, reaching out and brushing my hair back from my face. She sighed and kissed my forehead, and then she opened the large carved doors and led us inside. 

I whispered a few emergency instructions on fae to the girl as we entered the chamber. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Just stay next to me and do what I tell you, don’t look anyone in the eye and don’t talk unless you’re spoken to directly.” I couldn’t tell if she understood me, but she let me shuffle her forward.

My eyes were immediately drawn to Mab. Today she was dressed from hair to gown to in muted cool silvery tones. She must be in a good mood. Like always, her beauty struck me on just how inhuman it was. Her skin was as flawless as porcelain, her lips the color of mulberries, eyes overly large and piercing jade green with slitted feline pupils. She watched us approach without so much as a twitch of movement. I was aware there were others in the large chamber; I could hear the low murmur of voices, but I only had eyes for Mab. She _owned_ me. Breath, blood and bone. And she loved making it a point to remind me whenever I started to forget.

I stopped in front of the dais where Mab sat on her icy throne. She watched me obliquely, keeping the whole chamber in her sight. I gave a small pressure on chimera-girl’s shoulder and she went obligingly to her knees. I bowed to my Queen, and waited.

And she kept me waiting. Seconds ticked by, the murmuring voices died away. Silence surrounded us. I didn’t see or hear her move, but suddenly my awareness of her shifted and I felt her cool fingers slide along my jaw, cupping my cheek.

“Sir Knight, what have you brought me this evening?’ she spoke quietly, just the two of us. I closed my eyes and leaned into her hand on my face.

“A mortal. I’ve come to publicize my Claim on her before the Court.”

“Oh?” Mab asked, carding her fingers through my hair. “What’s so special about this one? You’ve never shown any interest in taking part in such traditions before.” she leaned down and whispered in my ear, her breath ghosting along my neck, “Have you decided you’re from my town after all?”

I shuddered. She was quoting what I had said to her at the beginning of our ‘relationship’. I had told her I played on her team, but I wasn’t from her town.

“Um,” I said, eloquently, “I pled the fifth?”

She laughed and it was a sound sharp enough to cut glass. “Very well, my Knight.” She left me, returning to her throne to address the assembly.

“Guests!” she called out, her voice no more than audible but still ringing out within the chamber. “My Knight has honored us today. We have a Claiming to witness.” A polite smattering of applause followed her proclamation. She’d yielded me the floor. Time to start the show, I thought.

The only other Claiming I had ever witnessed involved a truly embarrassing amount of public sex. While that was certainly the most efficient way to mix auras, that wasn’t going to be anywhere near the agenda today. For a Claiming to be legitimate it basically only needed three things; the person being Claimed needed to give consent, the person doing the Claiming needed to imprint a portion of their aura on the Claimed, usually by binding it to a visible mark on the Claimed person’s body. And, then the person doing the Claiming would ingest a portion of the Claimed person’s soul. Yes, their _soul_ soul. I rolled my shoulders and knelt down in front of chimera-girl. Stars, I still didn’t know her name. Her face was pale and pallid. I hoped she didn’t throw up again.

“Are you ready for this?” I asked her softly.

She gave a shaky nod of her head. “What do I have do?”

“Weeell” I hedged, “Not much.” You start talking about eating people’s souls and they tend to get a little freaked out. I decided to keep the explanation as brief as possible. “Basically, what I have to do is mix our auras together and leave a physical mark on you, like a magical signature. I thought your wrist would be a good place. You could keep it covered in the mortal world if you wanted, but I wouldn’t suggest covering it while you’re here. “

She said she understood. Hell, she’d lived in the Red Court, I was sure she knew all about marks of ownership.

“So,” I continued, “I’m going to kiss you now. You’ll feel my magic and you’ll feel when the mark is set, but it shouldn’t hurt.”

Her eyes slid past me to the crowd behind us.

“Yeah, fuck those guys,” I told her. “They’re just a bunch of power-hungry nobodies. That’s why they hang out here, trying to catch a bone.” She gave me a wan smile.

“You’re stalling,” she said, a tiny spark in her eyes.

“Yeah, well, it’s a little awkward.”

“If you’re going to kiss me I suggest doing it soon before I puke again.”

I snorted. That’s the kind of banter I can respect. “You minx,” I joked and leaned into her. Our eyes met as my lips brushed hers and there was no romantic spark or flush of lust. Just awkward bodies pressing together, you know, awkwardly. I slid my arm around her and braced her neck, concentrating on focusing my magic. I licked the seam of her mouth and she opened for me, I could taste the aftermath of her earlier vomiting. I kept my mind clinical, focusing on the task at hand. I let my magic flow into her, one long tendril of power that I imagined passing between us through our joined mouths. She felt it and tensed. My tongue caressed hers, probing her, exploring her. I watched her pupils dilate and her irises disappear, my magic touching parts of her that should never be touched by anyone. It was a gross invasion of privacy. I could feel her emotions, her pain; the numbness of her feet to her swollen throat. I had a flashback of her muscle memory of being strangled from behind while something with too many slimy arms leached its way across her body. What I was doing to her was sending her into a panic attack. I couldn’t really do anything about it. I tried to look into her eyes and make her see that I was not the creature that I had stolen her from. But she wasn’t seeing me anymore. Eyes are the windows to the soul, and I’d already seen hers. She watched me with dead eyes, totally removed from what was happening to her body. This was her survival instinct. Take the body, not the mind.

It was almost insultingly easy to push my magic into her, it felt no more important than the last step in potion making; taking a random assortment of ingredients and giving it the spark that would coalesce it into a something unified and whole. Purposeful. I took her left wrist in my free hand and stroked my thumb over the pulse point. Her wrists was raw from the manacles, she flinched. It sucked, but it had to be done. Soul magic doesn’t need any incantations, foci, or props. Just intent. I needed this to work, so it would. Simple. Permanent.

I felt along through my tendril of magic moving within her until it found its way back to my hand on her wrist. At the spot where it reconnected with my own body I used a minor effort to seal a piece of myself inside her. She gasped into my mouth when it hit, but didn’t pull away. The seal was my signature, magically speaking. A stylized pentacle, with an intricate five sided snowflake instead of the star. I knew it would appear sapphire blue on her skin, the same color as my raw magic, and the color that I associated with protection. As I withdrew my magic back I tugged her soul along with it. Our mouths parted and I inhaled deeply, sucking her soul out along with the excess magic I had pressed into her. I could actually see her soul stretched between us, the blue of my magic intertwining with the red of her soul. I inhaled through my mouth until that scarlet energy hit me. I sucked her into myself, keeping a piece within me. Where her soul finally touched me, there was flash of violet light and her scarlet soul turned the same sapphire as my magic, and sprung back into her.

She sagged against me, and I felt it through the mark when she slipped into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 7/31: I haven't forgotten about you sweet things. Just dealing with the everyday crises of life. I have up to chapter 10 written (needs some strong editing) and a good deal of the 'revenge mission' sequel charted out. If you haven't already, you might want to subscribe so you'll get my updates in your inbox rather than having to check back.   
> all the best---


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